Murder Drones: JcJ-N-son [AU] (Hiatus: Writer's block)

Prologue

"The crows. Have they been fed?"

"Yes, they have. Another Drone down. If this keeps going, we will run out of servants in record time."

Those words were all he needed to hear.
He held his hands together, his thumbs nervously fidgeting. His gaze remained fixated in the void in a mix of slight mournfulness and relief as he listened to the two women speaking, unaware of his presence. The oldest seemed indifferent of having sent yet another one of his kind to meet her end in the stomachs of machine-eating ravens.
She was defective anyway, and no one liked her. Just the sight of her unstable silhouette was enough to make anyone uneasy, knowing that her presence would bring nothing but trouble. At least, this problem was now solved.

He leaned against the wall behind which he was hiding from the ladies, basking in the fact it happened. Part of him knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself, since it wasn't like him to have done this, but it was for the sake of everyone else in this mansion.

He quickly left the perimeters before he would get caught, his steps as quiet as a mouse's. His slinking movements were covered up by the sound of gentle rain tapping against the windows and the crackling of branches beyond the walls. If it wasn't for the circumstances, these noises would be perfect for a good sleep, however he wasn't expecting to get any of that joyous sensation of being unconscious after what he did. Not that he was alone in that act...

"And? Update?"

His head turned to face forward, his eyes landing on the figure of a maid of his own species, while he was a butler. She was leaning against a pillar rounding the corner of the hall, dimly lit by the wall lights. Her silver hair pulled into two separate ponytails on each side of her head, arms crossed, her yellow eyes fixated on him with an expression of no remorse nor empathy for both the victim or him.
He hesitated to answer, looking at the ground then back at her, nodding slightly to signify their success.

"She's gone. Lady Louisa confirmed."

"Perfect. Now, the last step, to keep her dead. And remember what we said; not a single word to anyone about this."

She stood up straight, dusting herself off and placing her hands on her hips, while he still struggled with this whole predicament. The maid eyed him with a raised brow, seemingly throwing shade or pity his way.

"Why are you so upset about this? You said it yourself that you wanted her gone."

"She was our little sister."

His voice was full of sorrow, his expression mimicking that emotion. He held her apathetic gaze with his optics showing the weight of their heinous crime.
She, however, was indifferent.

"You mean YOUR little sister. I never considered her as such, even less as a comrade."

He couldn't argue with that. She was right. He was the only one who ever saw her as a close one, the only one who didn't had the habit of locking her in the basement. Now that it had been done, she wouldn't have to worry about being locked up ever again. Only having to worry about being digested alive. A horrible way to go out that made his stomach churn with guilt and disgust.

"Time to head back to our tasks."

She grumbled quietly, glad of being done with that other freak. With quick hands, she gripped the guy by his uniform's collar, pulling him closer in a harassing way, demanding and yanking his attention from the thoughts of the deceased one's fate.

"Again, not a word to anyone! Especially Tessa."

"I heard you the first time."

He replied bluntly, earning a push from the girl who did not appreciate his tone. He stumbled back, his steps softly echoing down the halls of lifelessness. It wasn't a new treatment, but it still hurt whenever she'd do that. A reminder that no matter the amount of teamwork they performed, she'd never respect him.
The rain tapped harder against the glass of the windows, giving an impression of guilt-tripping for the life they ended, the scraping of branches being a mimic of clawing of feral souls attempting to break in and seek revenge on their executioners. He slightly jumped at the sudden flash of white outside followed by a loud rumble that nearly shook the entire house. Whether he was looking too deep into it, or if it was a personal shaming and attack, he could feel the wrong now filling him to the brim, sensing its intensity through the storm slowly generating outside. Those breakable walls were the only thing keeping him safe from carnage, even the silent words "It was wrong, I was wrong" wouldn't do anything against the psychological torment that spawned in his soul. Deep inside, he could feel it was only a matter of time before his actions would catch up to him. He could already hear her saying it...