The Purity

Chapter One

You're just a no-frills butler, black pants and a white button-up, with black buttons, joint with a simple white mask that every other help had made you look monotonous against the sea of red fabric modelled by the sinners you serve, their eyes staring into your soul, waiting for you to make a mistake to prove you are one of their sinning brethren but you stand tall and proud beneath their judging eyes.

People crowd around you as you pass out glass after glass of crimson wine before you have to retreat to your Master's side, Lord Ernest the Fourth, as he waves you over. His face is covered by a veil, though you've seen it day and day while serving him, and you recall every detail of his body, his slightly turned-up nose and his cut, rough, skin.

You bow your head to his sitting form, his lengthy legs crossing as he leans into his chair, women and men alike listening to his deep and smooth voice, like honey to the ears. He cups your exposed chin, bending your back to show you off to the crowd around him as if you're a trophy he had earned.

"And this, my dears, is my loyal butler."

A series of coos echo around you though they can't see your face. Lord Ernest lets you go, flexing his fingers to calm his nerves, he is always disgusted by touching help but one can't truly show that around so many nobles.

He turns to you, and though his veil hides his face you can still feel his eyes on your face as he joins his 'dears' in sinning one last time for the night, and waves you away with a few words.

"Make sure our guest is taken care of, yes?"

He turned back to his many masked lovers, silently waving you off so he can get back to his flirting. You barely glance back at him as you walk to one of the curtained-off areas but you can already see the disgusting scene of the black veil pressed against someone's lips.

You use the back of your hand to raise the less-than-colourful curtains, large potted plants, servants feeding him expensive dishes, and desserts hand-fed from blinded peasants. Lights hanging above show Monarch Kami, his white eye mask with golden feathers hiding most of his face from view, playing with an intricate knife that held a small pearl in the handle.

He looks up at you, mesh in front of his eyes but you are used to the looks you get from nobles and royals can't be that much different. He leans back, gloved hand waving you over as the peasants stop their movements, a butler behind his master with the same mask as you but he carries himself elegantly.

"Monarch Kami from the house of Opie, how may I be of service?"

"Bring me more sweets, please."

The butler looks at you and you notice the feather earring he has.

"His Majesty Kami prefers those with white chocolate, they don't mess with the taste of... the red."

"Yes, I'll have some servants deliver another dish of desserts. The main activity shall begin shortly."

He nods, escorting you out of the curtained area before his master grips your wrist, forcing you to stop walking and look back. His hair, unlike your Master's, is free and barely covers the edges of his mask. The light above makes him look angelic but you know that anyone at the Purity Ball is anything but an angel.

"I want it quickly."

He leans back, snapping twice as all the attractiveness you once saw in him fades. You nod, bowing your head for a moment, and then leave the curtained area.

Your eyes turn to the Monarch's lounge, meeting Lord Ernest's veiled face. A growl rips through the air, a shine of yellow behind his black veil, and you can hear his teeth grinding as he stops himself from lunging at your throat.

"Get to the kitchen. Now."

"As you wish, Lord Ernest."

His body disappears into a puff of black fog, lifting upwards before maneuvering to the kitchen. You sigh, all the breath leaving your lungs before you straighten yourself out and follow his smoke, grabbing the empty trays from servants with blue buttons. They're lesser than you so you point at where the monarch is resting, telling the lesser Royal's order. They nod but you barely see it as you disappear behind the kitchen doors.

You put down the empty trays, a dishwasher hurrying to clean them, and turn your eyes to the head chef.

A black mask that covers only the top of his face and apron, and a lit cigarette in his hand that he takes a long drag of. You scoff.

"Smoking in the kitchen? Come on, Marcelo, you're a professional."

"Yes, I am and I'm also stressed because the little fucking-"

He takes another long drag, the smoke seething through his teeth as he growls, bringing his other hand up to rub at his left temple. He gestures you and Lord Ernest towards the back, where the fresh meat is kept. He kicks open the door, the metal making way for the strength he gets from being a halfling.

The stench reaches your nose before anything else does, whoever this managed corpse was meant to be, there's no resemblance of them. Missing eyes stare at you, black empty voids somehow filled with hatred.

Lord Ernest growls, bringing his hand up and underneath his veil, biting his knuckles to stop himself from lunging at the tainted blood. Chef Marcelo flattens his cig between his thumb and pointer.

"Whoever did this is a disgusting leach, especially on the day of the Purity Ball. I don't have enough blood, all of our other... meat is used, tainted, we need something fresh."

You turn your eyes away from the corpse, glaring at Chef Marcelo.

"What? That's all you're worried about-"

Lord Ernest takes a step forward, weakly fighting the urge to pounce, his body shaking as his core tries to move forward without the rest of his body. You ignore Marcelo trying to taunt the words out of you, moving forward to block the blood-sucker from impure blood but you're thrown.

Your back hits the wall, your mask clatters onto the ground, a meat hook barely slices your shoulder, and you curl over yourself as a blooming flower of pain aches at your skin. Marcelo strides over, Lord Ernest taken from his blood lust at the loud noise he made by tossing you, and the chef kneels in front of you.

"Still alive?"

You wheeze. He licks his lips, reaching out and taking some of your blood from your open wound.

"Your blood doesn't smell all that delicious,"

He licks at the liquid on his fingers.

His eyes widen, gripping your shirt and bringing you to your feet as he stands, and his tongue laps at the edge of the wound before he growls to keep his instincts at bay.

"But the taste... Ernest, try his blood-"

Lord Ernest doesn't wait for Chef to cease talking, attaching to your shoulder without even muttering an apology. His fangs dig into your exposed flesh until they strike bone, his curved teeth extending to dig into you more, and his hand squeezes at the wound so more blood spills into his fangs. He pulls off when Marcelo's dark-skinned hand tugs him away, his veil lifted above his head.

His pale lips are covered in your beverage, he licks at it before something similar to a moan leaves his mouth.

"How... how could you taste so..."

His normally deep brown eyes turn yellow, his predator side screaming at him to pounce and finish you off but he bites his tongue, hard, and lowers his veil.

"I assume that my butler will fulfill our lacking supply just fine, yes?"

Chef Marcelo chuckles, nodding.

"Yeah, it'll work just fine. So, Lord Ernest, you can get back to sinning before our main event."