A Tale of A Rich Man and His Loyal Servant

Chapter Three: Spolier Alert! It Only Gets Worse From Here.

Date: November 2nd, 1865

Rann was tasked with cleaning the chandelier today, he didn't know he'd slip and cause it to tumble with him. When he woke up he was laying on a couch, Billiam glaring down at him, "Could you have been more reckless?" He scolded, the glare made Rann uneasy so he ran. Billiam sighed, walking after the boy. He noticed how Rann tried to block his path with pulling a couch into it, he just ran to the piping room. Billiam just pretended not to know where Rann went, he was pissed now, soon he wandered into the piping room.

  And stared directly where Rann was hiding, "Get down from there." He hissed, the boy did so. And almost got his arm grabbed by Billiam. But being younger and quicker he made it outside, Billiam was really losing his patience now. Walking outside he called the boy's name, not getting a response he checked the usual hiding spots used in the garden.

The thing that gave Rann away was a sneeze, Billiam grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him into the estate. Rann had fear filling his eyes, the rest of the workers there just stopped and stared. He was about to be beat for the first time, "You. YOU are out of line. Out of all the servants here, why must it be you. I'm not going to say sorry for my actions, because that will mean I have an attachment on you." Billiam hissed the entire statement and threw the boy to the ground.

He was beaten.

Rann was hyperventilating when it was over, making a mental note to clean these wounds up along with the others after this. He just sat in the library. Silent and tired, he had cleaned himself up but he was just drained.

Date: November 10th, 1865

Rann walked into Billiam's room, he was drunk. The man looked up and saw the pale boy, "What." He said in a sour tone, "How did you get me?" Rann asked, and they argued. It got to the point to where Rann threw down his masquerade mask— it's a uniform mandate— and screamed at Billiam, "Well then maybe you should go back to your parents! Maybe they'd want ya now, BITCH." Rann flinched at his tone, he dropped to his knees.

Billiam crouched down in front of him, "That's what I thought. Your weak and dependent. You wouldn't love a damn day out there without me." Rann's eyes said it all. He hated him, he hated him with all his being. The fifteen year old smacked the older's hand away when the older realized what he said. Hate laced with fear rested in his eyes, tears streaming down the pale face.

Billiam's eyes searched his face for something that wasn't hate. But there wasn't a single emotion that said he didn't hate him, the boy left the room. Slamming the door behind him, Billiam sloped down and was now sitting on the floor, picking up the mask of the other. He sighed, holding it close to him as he laid back down on his bed. Drinking for another reason now.

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