Haley Thistle
patreon
The Mask He Wore (special preview)
🕑 Added 2021-09-14 21:01:00 +0000 UTCI was hired onto the Prowd staff when I was very young. Lady Blythe had taken me in despite my youth and gave me both employment as well as a roof over my head. For that I will be forever grateful. The only thing that bothers me about my job is that, aside from Lady Blythe, I’ve never really seen my employer.
Mr. Prowd bought this place a long time ago and revived the vineyard to where it became a very thriving winery like it had been once before. He had guests and customers coming all the time to sample his wine and buy it from the source. But I had barely ever captured a glance at him, aside from once when I saw him on the third floor landing with Lady Blythe. But even then, I only saw his legs.
Long ago, the previous owners of the vineyard had killed themselves here in the manor. I had heard many stories about how there were notches in the bannister on the third floor. The stories started back when the drought was at its peak. Robbers would come into the house, and they would claim two skeletons hung from the banister on the third floor. The stories started there, only growing over time.
The staff now told stories of how the manor was haunted. Some told about ghostly visions they saw in the halls. I had lived here since I was small, and I had not ever seen anything strange. At least, nothing I could place. Once, I saw a man who was sitting on the stairs. He had his head in his hands. His clothes looked disheveled and it sounded as though he was weeping. There was such sadness surrounding him, a gloom and darkness that sucked inwards like a vortex. The stairs around him appeared to be darker, and a cold chill crept up my spine. He was as still as a statue, but from behind his hands I could see his mouth contort, and his eyes crinkle from crying. I had never seen someone so sad before i felt the need to reach out to him. But I was told not to bother guests, so I walked past him. But I never saw him again.
Such stories of the notches on the third floor banister, and the sighting of the supposed ghosts were popular subjects amongst the staff. During the evening, when too much drink had been had, you could hear many a braying tale.
“I say you go up there and prove it,” one huffed. “ I’m sick of hearing about it. Go see the damn notches!”
“You can see them from the ground floor. Just look up. You may even see old man Prowd too!” The other snorted.
“Or up Lady Blythe’s skirt!”
This caused the table of men to burst out laughing. I was not too enthused with it, but their voices were the only ones you could hear and all I wanted to do was finish my meal.
“No one’s allowed on that third floor,” the first one slurred. “Bet if you went up there you’d see old man Prowd with his cock out.”
The groans and jeers echoed my own thoughts.
“I heard he and Lady Blythe take their guests up there for all sorts of fun and games,” the second babbled on. “You know there are all sorts of perverts amongst the rich.”
“When you got money you can put your cock in anything and no one can say nothing about it!”
I sighed heavily and picked up my plate to the basin. I intended to leave, but as I turned the whole room went as quiet as a tomb. Lady Blythe stepped into the kitchen and looked around with a cold look upon her face.
“I came to fetch some water to make some tea.” Her hand smoothed down the door frame as her eyes cut around the room. “No need to go quiet on my account.” She walked into the room, watching the men at the table as they ducked their heads and averted their eyes. Lady Blythe was an elegant woman, she held herself with such a regality and moved with such elegance. Since I was little, I had always wanted to somehow be like her.
Like us in the staff, she always wore red. The whole house itself was filled with the color. I used to consider it quite garish, almost frightening, but upon Lady Blythe with her pale skin and dark hair, the color felt as if it belonged upon her.
Lady Blythe came up beside me, filling a kettle. A low murmur rose back to the room, but nothing like the roar it was before.
