Haley Thistle
patreon
Flauros the Demon (rough draft)
🕑 Added 2021-12-22 21:01:01 +0000 UTCDriving up to the old mansion, you felt a familial sense creep over you. You hadn’t been here in ages, not sense most of the family moved further north to escape the constant onslaught of storms and foul weather. The bayou was high and most of the lawn was a soggy, squishy mess. You could see why things had gotten run down, especially after your grandmother passed.
The Babineaux mansion had stood against the test of time, and looking at it, not a thing about the outside had changed since you were a child. It was odd; almost as if an episode of the Twilight Zone was about to start and Rod Serling's deep voice would pop up beside you.
The key that your mother had given you still worked, although you were told some of the staff still worked inside, their salary part of your grandmother’s will. Inside, it was like stepping twenty years into the past. Everything looked and felt the same, even the lingering scent of your grandmother’s Chanel No. 5 was the same.
You set your bags down, almost overwhelmed by how familiar and stuck in time it all was. You pulled out your phone to call your mother to let her know you made it safely, looking up the grand staircase to make sure your grandmother would walk down one last time.
“Who might you be?”
The voice boomed front he left, and you nearly slung your phone up into the chandelier. Standing there in the hall was a man, a very tall and elegant looking man who wore gloves and a suit nicer than any clothing you ever owned.
“You scared me!” You blurted. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”
The man strode towards you, carrying a confidence you never had. He had cat-like eyes and fine silver hair that was slicked back and tied into a long ponytail.
“You must be the new mistress. I am Flauros, your butler.” He bowed before you then took your bags. “This way to your chambers. I had them prepared for you just as your grandmother asked.”
“The name sounds familiar,” you followed him up the stairs. “How long have you worked here?”
“Long enough, your grandmother was quite strict with her orders that I tend to you.” He took you down a long corridor which was all pink and greens.
Perhaps it was your grandmother you heard the name from, but something else about this butler resonated with you in a strange way. “I know my grandmother left your salary as part of her will, but aside from caring for the house, I’m not sure what I need tended.” You laughed nervously, cutting it off as Flauros turned to look at you.
“This is my home as well as yours, Ms. Babineaux, and since you are the last of the name, it is my duty to see after it.” He walked you into the room which, right away, you were stunned by the blooming gardenia tree outside the massive windows.
“Oh wow,” you breathed.
Flauros set your bags aside then stood in attention. “Is there anything you need, Ms. Babineux?”
Your eyes were fixated outside the window at the gardenia tree. Beyond it, you could see the small dock with your grandfather’s little boats. “I haven’t had lunch yet,” you murmured as you inched closer to the windows. “But I can make myself something later.”
“I’ll prepare something so you can unpack.” Flauros looked you over and smiled. “There’s a letter for you from your grandmother on the bed.”
You caught Flauros’ eye, noticing the dark color looked like a shade of blood red. “She left me a letter?”
He pointed a gloved finger back. “On the pillow, just as she instructed. I’ll call for you when lunch is ready.” He left the room, somehow closing the door silently.
You sat down upon the bed, looking at the little pink envelope sitting upon the pillows. Your grandmother’s handwriting was instantly recognizable, spelling out your full name which only she used.
Inside was her usual stationary, you remembered it from countless birthday cards and christmas letters.
“To my darling, only grandchild. I am dead.” You're sad, but it’s also worth a chuckle. “You are home now as well, and that is what matters most to me. I know you will be safe here, taken care of by the home that brought up the Babineux’s ancestral and modern. In these walls I want you to find comfort, and in my selfishness an heir. That is why I have left Flauros to you.”
