Chapter Text
Victor had always noticed the silent man staring at him blatantly, this was nothing new to Victor. After all he could always feel the way his skin prickled at the eyes of others turned upon him.
The first time he had caught the Embalmer staring had been the first day that Victor was in the manor, the girl who had welcomed him had left him to go talk with someone else named Ganji, leaving Victor to his own devices. As such, he had found himself in the dinning area and was sitting off to the side with his fingers anxiously running over Wick’s fur. The new environment must have been tough for both of them. The staring though… Staring had always made Victor’s chest tighten, if someone was looking at him then they would see any mistakes to keep up the happy and passive mask he wore, the ever silent messenger. If people stared at him, that would give them more reason to see anything he did as incorrect and confront him about it.
He had noticed Aesop when he had entered the room, and sat at the other end as to not bother the man who seemed to be methodically checking over whatever was contained within the case. However, in Victor's foolishness, the man's attention had been grabbed by the jingling of Wicks collar when Victor had sat down.
The panic welling up from his chest made him quickly look away with a soft flush of embarrassment to cover his cheeks. His fingers always inched to where his lips had been forcibly sealed, not that the stitches did much. His own inability to speak left him very frustrated at times. He was sure his eyes had widened considerably as his gaze averted from the gray haired man across the room from him.
He was just being more suspicious, damnit Victor.
Luckily, it didn’t take long for the awkward staring to be interrupted by the quiet opening and closing of the large doors farther down the table. Well… as quiet as one could be with those doors. Victor nearly died on the spot from fear when he had first opened those doors and everyone in the room had turned to stare at him.
Anne, Victor remembered her name from when he had first got here. She had warned him about the gray haired man, how he was being creepy and didn’t talk to anyone much even with continued efforts. He just seemed to brush her off after staring uncomfortably into Anne’s eyes for an extended period. She had given quite the warm welcome, much nicer than the man who Anne had introduced as Ganji. Victor wasn’t quite sure how to feel about him yet…
Anne’s soft voice interrupted the not uncomfortable silence the embalmer and Victor held with a small greeting, “Victor, I was wondering if you knew anything about the game we are apparently having in three days time?”
Victor could only blink dumbly like a deer caught in headlights, his hand moving from the stitches on his mouth down to the papers he had in his satchel. Apparently his lost expression seemed to answer her question as she turned to the other in the room, “Your name is Aesop right?”
The question caused the messy blonde to think about the paper tucked into his messenger bag. Victor hadn’t gotten the courage to slide over the paper he had been fiddling with before he caught him staring openly at him. It was simply just asking his name. But what if Anne had been right, what if he really was some sort of killer?
…Not that that would change anything, but Victor preferred to not have come to participate in this game only to die before it even began. After all, it was hard to escape his old life even if it was just to get trapped in yet another game. It seemed like people in Victor’s life loved to play games with his.
Victor almost missed the annoyed hum of confirmation from the gray eyed man, was everything about this man so monochrome? That seemed like a rude thing to ask when they haven’t even exchanged any word, written or otherwise.
Victor looked up after clearing away the thoughts that started to inch closer. He had to be wrong, after all from what Victor knew no one had been killed yet by the gray schemed male. He couldn’t work with someone and assume they were the worse of the worse without even communicating with them at least once. Besides, it would be better to figure where Aesop sat on that sort of thing, maybe if he really was a murderer Victor could ally with him and he would be spared?
All in all, Victor really just didn’t want to end up risking everything just to die by his own teammates hands, even if that meant he’d end up as someone’s lapdog once again. At least he’d be safer if it was just one person.
Victor focus, you can’t tune out everything happening around you still . Victor snapped at himself internally as he brought himself back to the present. The sight that greeted him made his cheeks burn harshly in embarrassment once again.
Aesop was still staring directly at him. Wasn’t Anne the one talking to him? He was staring directly in his eyes. What was so interesting about Victor? He was still staring at him .
Did he see something wrong with him? Was he going to be ostracized again? Why couldn’t Victor just melt into the background? Why did Aesop have to stare at him like that?
Anne seemed to notice Aesop’s gaze piercing into the Postman’s soul, as she stepped to Victor’s side she fixed the Embalmer with a wary look.
Well there went his escape plan . An image of Victor going through the hall and then door to his right into the gardens poofed into the ether of his imagination and he mourned the death of his escape plan now that Anne was also paying attention to him with her hand almost touching him.
Aesop’s cold eyes moved from Victor to Anne, his brow seemed to only furrow a small amount. Victor was sure he would have missed it if he had not trained himself to always pay attention to facial expressions.
That shift still seemed enough to scare Anne as she moved away from Victor and mumbled some sort of apology before running away. Victor turned to watch her nearly fall from how suddenly she ran, blinking in confusion.
A sudden scraping sound of wood against wood sounded in front of Victor, calling his attention back to Aesop… Or well where Aesop was. Victor turned his head just in time to see the door to the Embalmer’s room close, leaving a very confused postman and his dog.
What just happened?