1
"…"
"Hey, halfsive, focus. I don't like repeating myself, and I'll only say things once, understand? Hey— I'm talking to you."
The girl flicked me on the nose with her slender fingers.
"Ow! Why? I don't even understand why I'm doing this!"
"Because Master said so."
I scrunched my nose. "Do you just do whatever that man says? He's evil— a murderer— ow, ow, don't pull my ear!"
"Listen, halfsive," she hissed, tugging harder. "Master's word is law. I'd happily give my life for him— body and soul, if I had one~. So don't go bad-mouthing him in my presence."
She finally let go.
"Can I at least ask one thing?" I asked, rubbing my nose.
"Tch… fine, but make it quick." She crossed her arms in a huff.
"What's with all the burning incense all over the house? It's not one room that doesn't have one burning."
The girl uncrossed her arms. "You'll get used to it. The Master will explain everything once you accomplish what you're set out to do."
"Totally avoided my question," I sighed.
"Well then, let's get going with the tour. Make sure you keep up— and no wandering around, you hear, halfsive?"
The girl twirled on her heel and began walking through the door. Yet again, we were in another room—this time, a kitchen.
That's when I saw them again.
The tiny doll with a carving knife.
I froze, backing up toward the door.
"What are you doing?" the woman asked.
"Th-that doll has a knife! I saw it in the hall— it had blood on it!" I squeaked.
"Blood? What are you on about, halfsive? This is one of my cooking dolls. They were probably washing it off."
"Huh?"
All of a sudden, one of the dolls walked up to the woman in the maid uniform. She held it gently in front of her.
"They are my eyes and ears. Do your best to treat them with the utmost care and respect," she said, setting the doll back down.
They would be cute—if their eyes weren't hollow… and if they weren't alive and moving.
"Alright, I'll show you around the kitchen." She walked over to the counter. "Here's all the silverware." She motioned to the plates, forks, and knives.
"I know what a kitchen is," I muttered.
That earned me a glare from her single visible eye.
"Sharp tongue you've got there, halfsive. If it were up to me, I'd cut it out. You mortals talk too much for my taste."
I was starting to think this girl had some serious issues.
"I, the head maid, handle all the cooking, so you don't have to worry about such things. All you need to do is learn the rooms and cleaning," she explained.
Though my mind was still somewhere else.
"…"
"Hmph."
The silver-haired woman huffed and walked into the room neighboring the kitchen, which led back to the dining hall from earlier. It was now empty and spotless.
"You'll be setting the tables and cleaning, I suppose."
"…"
"Follow along now—no lollygagging." She crossed her arms and turned around.
That was my chance.
I turned and tried to distance myself.
I burst through the door and slammed it shut behind me.
"Pah… not this again," I heard her sigh from the other side of the door.
Her voice wasn't angry—just tired.
I grabbed a chair and jammed it against the handle. My heart was pounding. I needed to get out of here.
Stay and kill a man, or become his bride? What an absurd joke. I had to find the exit and get as far away from this place as possible. I needed help.
I looked around, realizing I was no longer in the kitchen but in a large hallway that stretched endlessly in both directions.
"Now what…" I muttered.
The windows leading outside were still dark, and the only light came from candles lining the walls. I couldn't even tell what floor I was on, but I knew something wasn't right.
My emotions were too stale at certain points—too calm. Something was wrong. I should've been a mess after learning about Simon, but I'd since calmed down. Something was messing with my head.
I ran.
And ran.
I didn't even know what I was looking for—stairs, a double door, anything. The halls twisted and spiraled, and nausea churned in my gut.
I ran for what felt like forever—until I hit a dead end.
"Maybe the other way…" I whispered.
Where was I?
I tried a door, gulping, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone. But shouldn't I have by now? If this were really a mansion, wouldn't there be more people working or wandering around? The silence made it worse.
I opened the door—and froze.
"There you are, halfsive. Just where do you think you're—"
SLAM.
I shut the door.
That definitely wasn't the door I ran out of. How could she have caught up so fast—or rather, why was she in that door and not in the hall?
I turned to a nearby window. Maybe I could drop one of the vases lining the wall to see how far down it was.
"Grrr—gahh." I tried prying it open, but it wouldn't budge.
It was like it was sealed shut.
I grew frustrated and decided to try the doors again.
I took a deep breath, and when I opened the door, I saw a familiar room—the one I first woke up in.
"Huh… this wasn't the door I came out of," I said softly to myself, confused.
This house wasn't normal.
I closed it.
How did the doors work?
Why was each door leading me to a different room than before?
I furrowed my brow and tried coming up with a plan. At this rate, I'd be caught in no time.
I steadied myself and tried the breathing techniques my father taught me. The smell of the house helped calm me.
I proceeded to open the same door again, just to test a theory of mine—and sure enough, it worked.
The same door I opened led to a different room, this time with a plant and a desk, but no bed. It looked like an office.
Not here.
I closed the door, waited, then opened it once more. This time, it looked like an infirmary.
Not here either.
I closed and opened the door again.
This time, it was a room full of plushies and small dolls, all lined on shelves and piled on a big poof bed.
"What the…"
All of a sudden, every head turned my way.
"Eep!" I quickly shut the door.
"This isn't working."
I slumped against the door.
Suddenly, I heard music.
A soft piano.
The sound was as beautiful as it was eerie.
I stood up straight and hesitantly followed the noise. I came across a cracked door.
I gulped, but if I wanted to get out of here, maybe I could get help from whoever was playing.
I entered the room—it was grand and well-lit.
"Sunlight?" I whispered.
A large window shone at the far end. It was like stepping into the afterlife—finally, light.
The piano was massive, and whoever played it was clearly talented.
"Um, excuse me—I'm, um, looking for the exit—" I stammered.
As I walked closer, I got a better look at the figure.
He was tall and lanky, with strangely green hair. He wore a gold and black vest over a white collared shirt that fit him perfectly. His sleeves were rolled up, and a purple bow tie rested neatly at his throat.
He played with his eyes closed, completely lost in the rhythm.
"So, a lost rabbit has come hopping its way to me!" the man said eccentrically.
The man turned to me.
He looked to have a burn scar on the left side of his face. He was a tan man, and when he opened his eyes.
"What the,,,"
He had mismatched eyes
His left eye, golden and gleaming behind a chained monocle, shimmered with artificial precision; the right, violet and warm,
"So what can I, the ever-lasting Elais, do for you?" he said with a sly grin
"Um… I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. I was just… looking for the exit." I bit my tongue.
He looked strange, but something about him felt different from everyone else I'd met so far.
"Oh, are you now~?" he said in a sing-song voice, pressing a high key on the piano.
"Well, whatever reason brought you here—be it mistake or fate—it must mean you're special!"
He played a low note this time.
"Please, help me. I just want to go home. You have to understand—I don't want this, I—"
The lanky man played a soft, quick melody. It was strangely relaxing, and my nerves began to calm.
"Relax, young fledgling. I am a helper here, of sorts. I look after guests and new residents—make sure they're comfortable."
He stood and stepped closer.
"You want the exit, and I want some information. How about we cut a deal, yes?"
He placed a hand on his chest.
"Anything. Sure. I just… want to go home."
"Good! Then I'll ask my question, and I'll tell you how to leave. Sounds fair?"
I nodded. He was easier to talk to than that monotone woman or the bratty one.
He cleared his throat. "Ahem. You're a half-elf, right?"
"Um… yes, I am."
"Ah, how fascinating! I've never seen one with my own two eyes before. You're as majestic as a unicorn—though, much less foul than one."
Unicorns? What was that supposed to mean?
"Your ears are pointy but not long. Your eyes are as red as a sea of blood. And the spirits around you cling like sloths!"
He paced around me, examining me from head to toe.
"Tell me—do you poop differently than humans?"
"Excuse me?" I blinked, raising a brow.
"Ah, too forward! My apologies." He stood dramatically, one hand over his heart.
"Allow me to start over. My name is Elias Montgomery, servant of the illustrious Lord Cassius Sinclair. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a flourish of his voice he did a deep bow with his right leg behind the other.
He extended his hand. I hesitated, then shook it.
"You… serve that monster?" I asked bitterly.
"Serve? Yes! A loyal servant for many years!" He grinned from ear to ear.
"Now then—about your excrement—"
"I don't know! And why are we still on this topic!?"
He gripped my hand tighter, eyes sparkling like stars.
"But we shook hands! That means we're friends now, doesn't it? Friends share stories about their stool!"
"What kind of friends do you have!?" I struggled to pull free.
He only laughed, the sound bright and musical.
I was wrong about him. He was, without a doubt, the most dangerous person I'd met in this house so far.
"I poop as regularly as anyone else! There, you happy now? Can we drop it!?" I yelled—for the first time since being here. It strained my throat.
"Ah, how disappointing!" He slumped his shoulders, frowning. His face fell.
Was he actually depressed over this?
"Ah, reality is quite often disappointing, isn't it?" He sat back down at his piano, playing a sad, low, melancholy note.
"Um… so how can I leave this place?" I asked.
"Hmm? Oh, right, right! The exit is in your heart."
"My… heart?"
"Yep, your heart is the key. It's pretty self-explanatory," he said, playing a few notes.
"No, it's not! That's so vague!"
Suddenly, the door burst open.
"There you are, brat! What did I tell you before about opening and closing doors? It's very, VERY annoying!"
It was the short maid.
"Elias, you shouldn't indulge this one."
"What? If she found me while playing, doesn't that mean she's special, Abigail?"
Abigail furrowed her brow.
"Special?" She scoffed. "I think Master is the only special person. Others are just whiny, cheap impersonations!"
She walked up to me in a huff. I flinched.
Then I felt small, warm hands grab my wrist.
"Now then, let's get back to work, halfsive."
"I—I…" I sputtered.
"What is it? Don't tell me you have cold feet now. Didn't you swear to kill Master?"
She tilted her head mockingly.
"I… I don't know. My head is all confused. I can't think straight. This all doesn't make sense—being here, having to kill someone… or murder. That's ridiculous."
I clutched the hem of my skirt.
"Why is this happening to me? My heart doesn't feel right. I should be more distraught. It's like my emotions aren't human anymore."
"..."
"Well, Rabbit," the strange man said, playing across the keys.
"Don't you think figuring all that out might help you digest it all easier?~"
He placed one hand on his chest and the other in the air.
"What… do you mean?"
"Elias!?"
"Abigail!"
He mirrored her tone perfectly.
"You'd better watch your tongue, you tone-deaf freak!"
"Tch tch tch, a lady as pretty as yourself shouldn't be so vulgar! You're going to scare off all the potential suitors!"
The smaller maid let go of my wrist.
"Excuse me! I ain't no lady—and the only suitor I care for is Master and Master alone!"
While they argued, I slowly slipped away toward the door.
"Ah, Abigail, what are we to do with you! I love the Master as much as anyone, but having a father complex is ill-befitting of you!"
"Gah, you're so irritating!"
I was close to the door when—
BAM!!!
It slammed shut.
The smaller maid had her hand extended.
"I'm not done with you, halfsive."
How did she do that just now—without even touching the door?
"Hmph, whatever. Just make sure not to go blabbing Master's plans to the half-pint, or all of this will have been a waste of time."
"Yes, yes, apologies! I'll keep my thoughts to myself for now."
He gave a formal bow.
"Good." She turned to me.
"Now then—you wasted enough time running around. We don't have time for cleaning. I swear, you'd better not make this a nasty habit."
She put her hands on her hips and shook her head.
"Now then, how about dinner and a bath? You'd better not have stretched out that outfit of yours running around, or I swear…"
"Sorry," I muttered, looking away.
Why did I apologize to my kidnapper? This whole situation was just plain weird.
"Will that man be there again?" I asked.
"By 'man,' you mean Master? Well, sorry, but he's a very busy man. Looking after you is the job of us Dolls… for whatever reason." She sighed.
She looked at me through the curtain of her hair. Her blue eyes were pretty—but tense. I couldn't sense any friendliness in them.
"Dolls?" I echoed instinctively.
She brushed past in haste.
"Well, you coming, halfsive?" She opened the door I'd entered through, and it led to the changing room from before.
Was this what he meant by 'heart'?
Even so, that didn't help. All of this felt like a lucid dream—one I'd wake up from in my bed.
Simon would hold my hand when I had nightmares. I could almost still feel the warmth in my palm.
But that was just wishful thinking. He was gone.
"Hurry up and change," she said as she stood in front of me. This time, she had a wine-red nightgown with exposed shoulders.
"I, um… can you look the other way?" I said meekly.
"Huhh? Don't be a prude. My heart belongs to Master and—"
"Master alone, yeah, I get it. I don't understand how you can be so devoted to someone like him—a murderer and a sellout."
"Ahh—ow ow ow! Stop!" She jammed two fingers up my nose.
"I should remind you not to badmouth the Master in my presence, unless you want moldy cheese with your sandwich."
She pulled them out, and I held my nose.
"Jeez, you're way meaner than the other two."
"Hmm. You mean Elias and Elizabeth? They're poor, soulless ducklings compared to me. I was made to perfection."
I narrowed my eyes. "Full of yourself too," I mumbled.
"What was that?" She held up her hand in a crab-like gesture.
"Nothing!"
"Nothing? Good. Now get changed."
I undid the apron of my uniform and slipped off the maid outfit.
That's when I got a good look at the mirror again.
I had always been slender, but looking at myself now… I almost couldn't recognize the girl in the reflection.
I was a stranger in my own body.
That thought alone made my skin crawl.
My face was more mature, my eyes sharper. I had grown breasts and curves like my mother. I didn't like it—the look, the feeling, the aura I gave off. The expression in the mirror scowled at me.
I hadn't smiled or laughed in what felt like weeks—but if what they said was true, that would mean years.
I changed into the nightgown and followed Abigail out the door into the dining hall.
3
The taller maid—Elizabeth, was it?—set down a bowl of stew with bits of meat inside.
It might've smelled good if it hadn't been for the burning incense; it was overwhelming and abrasive.
As I ate, the meal wasn't bland like the others. It was actually something I'd eaten before with my family.
Creamy fish stew with warm, soft soda bread.
"Something wrong? Is the food not to your liking?"
I clutched the spoon in my hand.
"No, it's not that… I just… have a lot on my plate," I said, exasperated.
"Oh… apologies. I made too much," the maid replied.
"No, that's just an expres—never mind."
I felt explaining would be pointless. Everyone I'd met so far was either that sociopath, that short, mean girl, or that man with the fascination for poop.
Gross.
I shouldn't think about that while I eat.
The food tasted good—like how Ma used to make. The bread was soft and moist, easy to digest.
Though the table was empty—no Mama or Papa, and no big brothers at the end of the table bickering—
I was alone.
"I'm done eating. I wanna go back to my room."
"As you wish."
Of course, the kitchen door opened right to my room.
"If you need anything else, Mistress, just ring the bell." She gave a small bow and closed the door.
My hands hovered over the handle.
I gripped it and twisted.
Rattle rattle.
"Locked. Of course."
I looked out the window into the pitch-black nothingness. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see anything outside.
It was, in no less terms—
a void.
I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"Yep, your heart is the key."
That strange man's words rang between my ears.
I gripped my chest and twisted my fingers into the fabric of my dress.
"If it takes heart to leave this place, then…"
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
"I'll leave, no matter what—
and go back home."