Housekeeper In A Dungeon Novels & Stories

Emily had opened the secret dungeon with the button on the wall and this amused the old housekeeper. She could not finish what she was saying and all she could do was stand still and look round the dungeon. "My goodness!" she exclaimed, putting her mouth right hand over her mouth as she opened her eyes wide. Emily, seeing how surprised she was, grabbed her hand and took her into the dungeon. The old housekeeper followed, looking at the walls of the newly discovered dungeon. "Come sit." the Duchess said as she brought a wooden still close to herself. She tapped on the top of the stool, telling Hannah to sit on it. Hannah looked at it and slowly walked to it. She looked at the Duchess and then

I wonder exactly how many were found as I follow Dimitri to the Dungeon. Dungeon is a pretty accurate word. It's a stone underground bunker made of stone. No matter how much it's cleaned, it's always foul smelling. The walls always look wet. The floors are the only thing that looks halfway clean and there's blood stains on most of them. Dimitri leads me into one of the rooms that I've used to torture men before. I don't like to do it but some days it is necessary. Today is one of those days.

She saw a shooting range and an archery range at the back of the house, a giant piece of land that stretched out like a wild forest. It was really an impressive, scary place. Her days were mostly empty. She’d met the chefs – Dave, the kind older man who lived there as the head chef, and the others who came in daily. Dave, with his gentle smile, had a military past. She’d also met Maddie, the housekeeper, and the other staff and guards. Dave and Maddie were sweet, and Claudine already liked them a lot. She’d spent a good chunk of the previous day just wandering through Hades’s clothes in his huge walk-in closet. It was a sea of expensive fabrics, dark colors, and that deep, earthy scent.

After three months away, I was finally home. I asked the house's male housekeeper, Jacob Miller, to give me a hand carrying my luggage upstairs. Jacob hoisted the suitcase but had barely taken a few steps when—bang—the luggage crashed to the floor. He clutched his wrist, wincing in pain. The noise startled the three women on the sofa. They jumped up and rushed toward him, surrounding him with frantic questions, fussing as if he were about to shatter. They scrambled for ointment, massaging his wrist with careful fingers, treating him like fragile porcelain.

I was still on the third floor! That was when the familiar mechanical voice echoed once more. “Congratulations, player. You have completed the previous dungeon. Due to your popularity ranking, you have now been recalled into the game. This dungeon is titled Hospital Horror. Please find the escape door within three days. Difficulty level: S. “Due to audience demand, previous NPCs and bosses will be assigned roles in this game. Their game identities are Dr. White, Dr. Jackson, and Mr. Winchester. I wish you a pleasant game.”

They hastily ran out of the dungeon, leaving me to fend for myself. I smirked. “Hmf, cowards.” I then tried to wriggle out of the chains. The dust had been continuously dropping from the ceiling floor as what I could expect from a century-old mansion, and smoke began to creep inside, which my big guess was sleeping gas. Just in time. One of my colleagues, Holt, made it inside the dungeon and quickly gave me a gas mask. “Jesus Christ! What has happened to you?!” A stunned Holt asked me. With those big goggles covering his eyes, I could still see how he skimmed the length of my body, specifically, my bloodied clothes.

He brought a bucket of warm water from the bathroom and dampened a soft towel before wiping her body gently and carefully. Finally, he closed the door gently and left the room. The housekeeper was currently cleaning up the mess in the living room downstairs. When she saw Damon coming down, she quickly lowered her head and greeted respectfully, "Young master." Damon nodded without expression and headed straight to the door. Before leaving the house, he turned around and ordered, "Make some soup and snacks. Serve it to her when she wakes up." "Yes," replied the housekeeper, but deep down, she was very surprised.

The air immediately turned cold and smelled strongly of damp earth and old metal as we descended the narrow, circular stone staircase leading directly into the underground holding cells. The underground dungeon consisted of a very long, dark hallway lined with thick iron bars and heavy metal locks. Torches burned brightly on the stone walls, casting yellow light across the dirty floor and illuminating the damp environment. Standing directly in front of the very last cell at the end of the corridor was Derek. The young man still wore a white cotton apron covered in greasy dishwater and food stains from his new kitchen duties, and his hands shook violently while he fumbled with a large ring of

But he stepped past me, closed the door, and made his way down the hall as if I didna exist. Somethin in my chest tightened at the thought that I was merely a way to pass the time fer im. A form of entertainment. Yit at least I was somethin more than a 'dumb dungeon lass.' ### The next several hours passed as I removed soiled linens, dragged em downstairs, brought fresh ones back upstairs, and made the bed in each of the forty-four other bedrooms. It took me awhile to remember which rooms had sleepin soldiers so I could do them last. They would be up by dusk fer their evenin meal and preparin to take watch.

The exceptional part is the hidden basement—my personal rooms. Only I’ve blown the last of my energy to port and it takes an infernally long time for one of my braindead underlings to find me. “Master? Master!? Where have you been? What happened?” It’s Julian, my efficient but pea-brained housekeeper—total waste of a vampire if you ask me. I scream as the idiot puts his hands on me, sliding me into a sit. “I’ve been fucking burned, what does it look like?” I snap. “Never mind. Just get me downstairs. Carefully!”