Horror Filled Tales For A Dark Night, Or Day

The Butler

Cecil Frederick was a good butler. A great one even, doing double duty as a chef as well, preparing the McArthur family's meals when he wasn't helping in his many duties around the four story home he worked in. He was age fifty-nine, with dark brown hair that was mostly grey now. He was five feet and five inches tall and in reasonable shape for his age, with hardley a break for himself, having only time for sleep and a quick shower when he woke. He dared a shave from time to time, but he had too many requests from the family he cared for to complete, to make it a main priority. None the less, he got scorned or looked at with disdain from members of the family from time to time because of his bristles, despite his excellent service to them. Their expectations were high, but Cecil did the best of his ability. The McArthur family were mostly pleased with his work, but couldn't help but add their own two cents about how to make their requests be better done. Ms. Natalie was the youngest of the family, and had a love of flowers. She was a young woman in her late twenties, with golden blonde hair and a lean figure.

Her main priority of the home was it's expansive garden, that ran from the back of the McArthur home to the front. It was quite beautiful and was filled with many different types of florals all thriving with healthy leaves and petals, all bright with vivid colors. There were so many that they stretched around the front of the house, and down the driveway. Cecil made sure that every rose bush, crawling vine, and every bed of flowers were in their best shape along with the sheared hedges that lined them. There was at one time a gardener that used to visit the grounds and help, but he was told to leave and not come back by Ms. Natalie after he accidentally clipped off a rose from one of the bushes, as she had startled him from behind, after calling out to him. He apologized, but to her there was no excuse. Ms. Natalie made sure that Cecil never forgot about it, to keep him from making the same mistake..

Mr. Thomas was Ms. Natalie's brother, with the same hue of fair hair and lean physical attributes. He was in his early thirties and had a love of cars, and the one he owned was to be kept in high maintenance. Every detail of the car was to be kept as close to being as new as it was the day it was bought. Cecil cleaned, washed, and waxed the car every day. Mr. Thomas had a habit of walking into the garage, just as Cecil would be done cleaning it. He pretended to say hello and make small conversation, but Cecil knew that Mr. Thomas was just by to look at his car and make sure everything was perfect. Despite taking care of Mr. Thomas's car as well as he could for a years now, Cecil knew Mr. Thomas still didn't trust him to get everything exactly right. He would walk around the car slowly and talk to Cecil, ask questions about his day, not caring about the answers. He pretended to make small talk and look at his car, looking at every detail as he did. Thomas would stop Cecil from any conversation that he was providing also if he was, and as suddenly as he wanted, when he was done with his inspection. He would throw the words; "Yes, nice job." Over his shoulder at Cecil as he walked out of the garage briskly, his attention already somewhere else, as soon as he saw his prize possession was being taken care of, properly enough..

Mr. Darren was in his forties. A fit man, with short and nicely trimmed, medium brown hair. He held the position of cousin to Ms. Natalie and Mr. Thomas. Like the brother and sister, Mr. Darren's parents were not around any longer. In this case the parents were deceased from an airplane crash, as they liked to travel a lot. They had put their son in privileged boarding schools, had left him with a nanny for when he was in his younger years to give him care, so Mr. Darren was a man who knew mostly what he could do to have things benefit him, more than anyone in the house. He fancied dressing in expensive clothes even when he had no place to go, even when he slept, he dressed in luxury. Some of the most expensive threads filled his closet and bedroom drawers, in every item of clothing from his head, down to his toes. Even the smallest of the buttons on his clothing were of high grade. Mr. Darren was in the strong belief that his physical appearance was the key to acceptance and respect from others, as he had learned from places where he had lived in certain quarters while growing up. Appearance had helped him in popularity and good status, more than anything else he had to offer. Cecil was in charge of making sure Mr. Darren's clothes were cleaned, pressed, and as refined from things like wrinkles, or spots from stains on any of his clothing. Even just one of either a wrinkle or stain on any item of clothing, caused a fit of anger from Mr. Darren, no matter how small. So Cecil made sure he did the best with his whole wardrobe to avoid any type of wrath. Mr. Darren even had Cecil stand in his room until he finished dressing, inspecting every inch of his clothing. He was ready to lecture Cecil intensely for every missed mark..