1-2: The Monsters in The Attic-I

Day or night, Jane couldn't tell anymore. All she know was that she had been moved from one place to another. Sometimes alone in a carriage or with so many people in a room. For some reason, her eyes were kept tied with the cloth with no one ever letting her open her eyes at all. But for now, she seemed to have been placed in a location where it wasn't moving anymore, walking down from the wagon. 

She walked briefly, the steps underneath her shoes were smoother than before. 

There was a voice coming from her sides, "As you know..... agreeable amount was..."

The voice that had spoke was somewhat familiar. Not because she had gotten to know the man but before her eyes were completely taken away, she heard those voice coming from one of her kidnappers. 

Or perhaps... seller. 

"But to make sure we got the kind of girl you would need, it took us more work than it's supposed to be... so you would understand if we increase the price don't you, Sir?" 

There was a click of tongue. 

Evangeline couldn't tell who they were talking to but the last time they had stopped one of the girls was left and the carriage continued. 

Considering that she was the only one brought out of the carriage, she concluded that it was her turn to be sold. 

Her heart pounded against her chest. Her entire head grew dizzy with the questions that shot into her head one by one in a speed she couldn't control or comprehend. 

Who are they selling me too? 

A small voice which was also hers answered.

Does it even matter who bought me? No one right in the head and is proper of moral would buy a person. 

She hesitated as she doesn't know much about the culture of selling people. She heard it was normal... but those were reserved for people who had mountain of debts... not her. 

What was her fate going to be? Jane couldn't tell. But she couldn't also feign innocent at the things that people would do to a young girl like her. 

"Take it all and don't ever say a word again." A sudden voice cut through her thoughts. It was the voice of an older man, perhaps gray around his hair and she shuddered at the realization. 

Was this who was going to buy her? 

An older man who might have chosen her as a plaything. 

Jane knew what could be done to her. She wasn't a fool. A virgin like her, young and a woman. She didn't even have to be beautiful for lechearous old man who wanted a young woman to play and have fun with, roll around until they're pregnant, to force himself to her. 

The thought made her body trembled even more. How much she wanted to run! But with her wrists bound tightly and her mouth captured for silence, what else could she do other than waiting for the right moment now?

Even if she tries to run, without her eyes, she will immediately be caught. 

Caught and what? 

The thought of being hurt was still alright for her, but to be killed? She knew better than testing a nobleman's patience. The last time some woman had rejected the advances of the eldest son of a wealthy family she bore a large wound across her face that put her into the act of tightening the noose around her own neck in the shed. 

She knew.... she knew that the said woman hadn't only been subjected to the burning wound across her face. That she had gone through worse but no one bat an eye or even tried to help her. 

It wasn't the right time to defy the people around her. Not yet. 

Jane needed her energy and she was smart enough to play where she knew she would have more upper hand than a losing game. 

She gritted her hands tighter, hearing the sound of horses coming from behind her as the wagon drove away. 

So this was it. She was sold. 

A hand had held her and she immediately jumped. 

"Well we cant have you flinching all the time like a fish out of water," muttered the older man before she felt the sudden movement of the cloth before her eyes. 

She flinched, her head ducking towards her neck as she felt the bright light incoming far too sharp for her eyes that had gotten far too used to the darkness. 

It took her a while of trying with her eyes squinting to properly make out what she was looking at, finally seeing the face of an old man with his entire beard all over his face white as his hair. His expression was stern, marred with lines and wrinkles that seemed to came from immense workload. But his hands were smooth and his outfit has not even a single wrinkle. 

That outfit. She was familiar of it. Black vest, a black long suit with a tail and a white shirt with a bowtie that was also black as the rest of his outfit. 

The plain outfit could only belong to a butler, especially one with the tail like he does. 

So he isn't her buyer. 

Another hand had moved swiftly, undoing the cloth around her mouth, startling her again as she backed away. 

With her mouth released, the butler in front of her eyed her carefully. He frowned, "You don't look too bad. It seems those people aren't a liar this time." 

This time? 

It's not their first time, that much Jane could tell. 

"Move with me," the butler ordered and with her hand still bound behind her back, Jane could only look around carefully, finding the sight of numerous maids.

The number of the maids made her a little taken aback, after all that wasn't only a little, this was a lot. There was already more than fifteen from what she could see and usually even a wealthy household had a maximum of twenty five. 

If already fifteen standing outside the entrance, just standing, one could only guess the amount of servants in other parts of the mansion which must be... four times the number of maids in front of her now. 

"There's a few rules you will have to learn once you step into this mansion," the butler said with his stern gait. He continued to walk without looking back and if it wasn't for her hand that was being tied, Jane wondered if running away now would be easy. After all, the other servants were around them but none of them seemed to be trained or tasked to chase after a running bought servant. 

There were no guards and... she was sure she could run from all these valet. 

The butler himself was strict and seemed slow on his feet. Not only seemed slow, he was slow. He's old but he was also limping on his left leg and was dragging the feet. 

"First rule is not to question anything that goes in this building. You shall not say a single word if not asked, shouldn't answer to anything or anyone but the young master." 

She blinked, the rules were told to her far too quickly when she was still trying to register the fact that she had just been sold. 

She didn't know how many days she was in that wagon. She only remembered being fed a few times across a few places but that's all...

"Second rule," the Butler continued without looking back or acknowledging her confusion. "You have to always by any moment or time stay beside the young master. The young master is immensely sensitive and you are about to be his eyes which meant you have no right of your own limbs other than doing what the young master told you to do." 

"Third rule, the attic-" 

"Pardon me," Jane cut finally, snapping out from the momentary daze that seemed to hit her too long than she was supposed to be. "I was sold without my will and I-"

"We are not here to discuss about you," The butler cut coldly. "I don't care what your situation and how you are brought here. You were sold, I bought you. This household bought you. Your next task is to perform what I tell you to do lest you wish to die." 

"Die?" She frowned and shook her head. "I don't understand, you bought me... to do work?" 

The butler quietly stared at her and Jane felt it. His gaze started at the top of her brown head, then at her round forehead. It continued to look down to her tattered shoes with the wide hole around her pinky toe which made her feel quite small. 

The way he stared at her wasn't judging, it was like a machine, but still being seized when she wasn't looking the best-not that she ever look good-but still, it struck a chord to her. 

"Yes." The butler confirmed. "I bought you here to do work." 

"But I thought..." she whispered. Not many people would buy servants. The household that does buy women was always for a few reason: for what the women could offer. And what a woman could offer wasn't work, work can be easily done by hiring a few workers around the house and it was always a much cheaper and easier method than buying a person the way this butler was. 

Usually only household that wanted children but couldn't due to their barren womb would buy a woman. 

Or perhaps men with twisted hobby no one could even name. 

She pursed her lips as she thought that something was terribly misplaced. 

"I said didn't I?" The butler quipped in front of her face. "I don't want to hear any questions coming from you. You're here to answer not ask." Then he turned around, letting out a draft sigh, hoo, that came from his mouth, "Another rule," he added as if numbering them was cumbersome, "Do not ever cut in between conversation again." 

She pursed her lips, looking at her hands still bound behind her back which meant that the butler doesn't trust her yet. 

Then she needed to know her enemy, the people inside this grand mansion. With breaths held back she asked, "What kind of task am I to do?" 

The butler seemed to look at her, a brief look of satisfaction seemed to spread on the man's face as if he was somewhat commending her for not repeating the same mistake of asking what she need not to know and rather went for the details of her work. 

Of course, the commending act lasted only for a split of second before he commented with a curt, bitter tone, "Our young master is blind." the butler announced to her. "And he would need entertainment."

"Entertainment...?" Was this a child? Only a child would even need entertainment in the first place. She could only guess that whoever this young master was is far too young to enjoy the world in silence. Maybe she was being tasked as a playmate? But she was too old for that. 

"Without entertainment... our young master could get violent." When the butler added this, the thin hair behind her neck suddenly rose. 

She couldn't tell why, she just felt a sudden cold brush on the back of her neck as if her body had reacted on something negative before her head or eyes could even comprehend first. For a moment she wanted her hand to release so she could warm the back of her neck which had turned cold, feeling that only by covering them with warmth would this uneasiness she feel would somehow get better, all in vain though. 

But a child... taking care of a child wasn't too impossible for her. And if she was taking care of a child, couldn't that make it easier for her to run away from this place? 

After all... the mansion does look big and she didn't look at it carefully earlier but the longer they walk at the endless hallway, the more she realized that this place might even take days for her to venture for good. 

Should she be thankful that this was at least a child she had to take care?

But why does she feel even more uneasy as they got closer?

The path they took also became higher every minutes they passed. The butler had led her to the staircase and at first they went up to the second floor only to go higher to the third and fourth. The last one was the fifth floor and only then did she gulp dryly, realizing that if the house was already this tall, what about the yard? What about their fence? 

She couldn't just jump out of it, could she? 

And... how odd. Children usually stray far away from the highest floor of a mansion. This common practice was to make sure that the children doesn't have to climb up and down the staircase that was precarious enough to cause some permanent damage.

Yet, they had even reached the attic. 

And for some reason as they grew closer, the less people she could see until there was none in front of a red painted door that was so crimson as if it was painted entirely red by blood. 

She was reminded at once upon standing in front of the door the saying that monsters stays in the attic.

What kind of person who was called young master, violent, and yet put inside an attic? 

Either they brought shame. 

Or they brought so much fear that the people in the mansion rather hide than see.