Chapter Text
Being a new butler in the Henituse manor was not as smooth as Hans anticipated. Hans could feel the fear creeping throughout his body. The reasoning behind it was the intensity of brown eyes pierced right through Hans skull, as if demanding answers they were not yet ready to reveal. It felt like every secret, every hidden emotion, was being laid bare under that piercing gaze, leaving no room for deception or deceit. Those brown eyes radiated a mix of determination and vulnerability, the look made Hans feel like he should spill everything about anything the young master wanted to know.
That's right the person who was lying in bed in a recovery position was Cale Henituse, the famous trash of the count’s family. Hans knew some information of why the young master was like this and needed a new butler. Hans could only stand there as the young master was in a daze.
His eyes were like mirrors, effortlessly reflecting their ever-changing moods. In these moments brown eyes were blank, and devoid of any emotion or life, resembling nothing more than empty voids. It felt as though those blank eyes held an eerie knowledge, something unknown and sinister, lurking just beneath the surface. Hans didn't seem to like the sensation of the look, to check up on the young master he cautiously took steps to him. Scared of even make a sound of a pin drop, he went up on his tip toes, once he was close enough to right beside the young master side.
He reached a handout to touch the young master’s skin. It was no lie that the young master has a fair and delicate complexion, lacking tan like his other siblings or pigmentation. As Hans ran a hand on the young masters face, he felt softness, and smooth with a slight blush of pink undertones. He felt coldness but warm around the young master's cheeks.
It seems like the young master escape his daydream, feeling the weird but somewhat caring for inspection hands along his face, he was confused. In the matter of second the young master threw himself onto Hans. Grabbing onto his hands, ripping them off his face. An irritated scowl was smacked onto the young masters face now. Hans knew he fucked up bad, he did something stupid to a noble that could get him hit or worst! Getting fired wasn't the road Hans wanted to go on, especially since this one pays well.
Before the young master could grab something to throw at Hans, he stopped all his movements. He was frozen like a statue, it took him a few seconds to he just held Hans's hands in his very own. Hans couldn't tell what the situation has come to right now. Trying to get out of this new awkward placement he ever so slightly squeezed the tiniest bit the young master's hands and spoke quietly but loudly to the man's ears.
"I am so sorry young master, I have no ill intentions towards you I swear to all the Gods!”
As Hans started to babble on and on, not showing any signs of stopping, not to the young master’s delight. The young master began to dig his nails into the butler skin, Hans didn’t seem to notice until he felt the young master stand up facing him. After seeing the new change in position Hans then began to feel the swelling pain in his fingertips. Trying to pull out of the young master’s grip, it only resulted in the young master losing balance, stumbling he used the nearest thing to help stabilize himself, that ‘thing’ was Hans. The young master rested his weight onto the butler. Hans was at a loss of words until the young master finally started to speak.
“What gives you the reason of scaring the wits out of me than try to trip me over?! Have you gone mad!”
The accusing wasn’t load but its sure stung Hans, Hans being one of the best picks of butlers to even be considered to work in the Henituse manor was getting the worst time of his life. Hell, the only reason in the first place he got this spot was, his luck of the butler Ron going on a trip with the chef for a while. Now he is the closes person in the manor with young master Cale, he doesn’t now anything about the young master, but he does now his acts of violence towards employees, among all the things he has heard through people of how he treats his servants. Hans hasn’t been treated with any physical violence, sure he may throw stuff but that at the walls, either his young master has really bad aim or he’s doing it on purpose.
Interrupting both the ginger butler and the young master was a swift knock on the door. Hans glanced at the young master and began to waltz towards the door, he was greeted with a tall woman, identifying herself as young miss Lily’s nanny.
“The young mistress has instructed me to see if the first young master was available to spend time with her in the garden.”
Hans moved to the bed to see a sign of approval or disagreement, but instead he was greeted with the young master right behind him, he does a gesture with his finger to lean in. He could he a hoarse voice telling him the commands of what to say to the nanny.
“Um, the young master isn’t feeling up to spending time with young mistress Lily today, but he did say tomorrow will be alright, but he does prefer to do it in the afternoon.”
Hans ended the sentence with a radiated and a hint of cheerfulness smile towards the nanny. The nanny bowed and began to gracefully walk down the hall with a tall and straight back posture. He closed the door and turned around once more and was somehow surprised to see the young master still haven’t left his stance from behind him. Mustering up the courage to say anything to him, he was shut down with a hand pointing at his face, Hans blinked in confusion he began to see the young master’s mouth twists into a miniature smile, not knowing the intentions behind it.
“You’re not so bad, Hans you said your name was? Fine I will be in your care, so please stick next to me for now on.”
Hans was speechless, he felt like he was getting a carriage full of praise from the young master, the young master how was supposed to be trash?! He felt like the world colours brightened the tiniest bit, but it turned into the chilling cold scene once more, he as for sure did not miss the way his chest felt warm.
“I will do my best to serve you to the best of my ability young master!”
Hans let out a genuine smile to the young master. The pointed finger arm flopped down onto the young master’s side.
---
In the gloomy solitude of the master's study, the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls. Clara, the nanny, hesitated for a moment before approaching him. The master, engrossed in studying an antique family portrait there was two one with a red curtain on the top of it and the other that was slightly new, the master appeared lost in a haze with thoughts going all around his head as he ran a hand under the curtains.
"Sir, I have something to report to you," Clara began, her voice barely audible, it wasn’t like it was the first time she was reporting to the Lord, but it tonight had a strange chill in the air.
The master turned towards her, his eyes gleaming with manic intensity. "Speak, Clara. What troubles you?"
Clara took a deep breath, and the air in the room felt suffocating, charged with an unspoken tension. "It's about your son, Cale he has been getting close towards Hans, the butler, has formed an unsettling bond with him." It’s not like she could tell the Lord that the new butler has been touching his first sons face when he’s asleep, it would be to astonishing for a parent to hear.
A demonic smile crept onto the master's face, like a predator toying with its prey. "Ah, you've noticed. How observant of you, Clara."
That wasn’t the sort of answer she was expecting to hear, her heart started pounding, Clara was making sure for even a second, she didn’t move her gaze from the Lord’s eyes, feeling trapped in the room as if it were closing in on her. "Sir, this connection seems abnormal. Their interactions are too close, too intimate." And it didn’t seem right for a butler to allow his emotions to run wild near his master and certainly not allowed to not consensually touch someone’s face, with them unaware.
The master's eyes flashed with an uncanny possessiveness. "My son is precious, Clara. He belongs solely to me. No one else must interfere or lay claim to him."
The master rose slowly, his movements resembling a macabre dance in the dimly lit room. He walked towards his desk pulling out some sort of diary.
"I only wished to warn you, sir. To preserve the sanctity of your family."
The master moved closer, his eyes now burning with a sinister fire. "My family is mine to protect. No one shall challenge it. Not even you. Now shouldn’t you be taking care of Lily, I am sure it’s past her bed time and she certainly shouldn’t be awake"
With those chilling words hanging in the air, Clara retreated, escaping from the clutches of the master's madness. Deep within the mansion's halls, an unsettling silence lingered, amplifying the sense of impending doom and the suffocating grasp of a father's overzealous need to safeguard his son, no matter the cost.
As Clara hurriedly left the study, unaware of Lady Violan's presence, the master's wife emerged from the shadows. The silence had granted her an opportunity to witness the conversation, her expression shifting from curiosity to unease.
"Clara," Lady Violan called out softly, but strict, not asking but commanding her to speak. "What did you mean about. Hans and our son?"
Startled, Clara turned toward Lady Violan, her heart racing at the realization that even the countess was close to Cale, she was sure that this family was distance, guess you can’t believe everything you hear. "Lady Violan, I apologize for the intrusion. I have noticed. Hans becoming unsettlingly close to young Cale. It has given rise to concerns."
Lady Violan's face, once serene, contorted with a mix of disbelief and worry. "Close? But why would Hans be overly involved with our son? Are you certain?"
Clara nodded her eyes filled with sympathy for Lady Violan's genuine confusion. "I have witnessed private moments between them, moments that speak of an unsettling connection. It is as if Hans seeks to replace a place from someone here, but I don’t want to make accusations."
With that resolute certainty, Lady Violan walked away, her footsteps echoing down the winding corridors of their mansion. Clara stood there, both relieved and worried, aware that the darkness surrounding the obsession of the father had unknowingly entangled its deceptive claws around the entire family.
---
Cale couldn't move, anything no limb was listening to his command. He could hear creaking coming from the side of the room with the window spread wide open. The figure didn't utter a word but took a step closer, its cold, glistening hands gently gliding over the side of his bed. A shiver ran down Cale's spine as he realized that this mysterious being was hovering over him while she slept.
As the night wore on, Cale found herself unable to escape the presence of the hovering figure. Each evening, it would return, silently watching over him, filling his dreams with eerie visions, seeing the blood cherry haired woman cradling him in a unknown place, Cale couldn't recognized.
When the sun rose and Cale has his body back in control, guided by eerie whispers, Cale located a diary in a dusty attic, he learned the hidden diary has untranslatable words. Confused about the strange language and written displayed on the pages, Cale turned his attention on the pictures and flowers stuck into the book. There was short riddles underneath the flowers, Cale knew his mother had a thing about mysterious riddles that had a large meaning behind it.
Its petals, crimson, like blood on the ground, Radiating a scent that whispers, confounds. A delicate facade, hiding a wicked core,
This Angel's trumpets flower, evil to its very core. Beware the fragrance, a sweet, tempting spell, For within its allure, horrors dwell. Thorny tendrils, reaching, gripping tight, Entwining souls, feeding on fright, and it's beautiful orange demeanour.
As moonlight bathes the garden's despair, The Angel's trumpets flower breathes a chilling air. Blackened roots, deep into darkness they delve, Feeding on fear, their hunger never quelled.
No sunshine can reach this twisted bloom, A blossoming nightmare, its presence looms. Born from the depths, it thrives on pain, An Angel's trumpets flower, a fearsome reign.
Its beauty deceives, a deadly disguise, Caution dissipates as its allure mesmerizes. But within the petals, chaos is sown, The Angel's trumpets flower, a terror unknown. So tread with caution, amidst this frightful domain,
For this ginger blossom, horror shall reign. A flower of nightmares, where evil takes flight, The Angel's trumpets, not proclaimed, a terrifying sight.
As he reads it, he becomes puzzled by its absurdity and struggles to find its meaning. What's with the talk about such a dangerous flower, to not be around? As he flipped through the book the dust that was collected inside the pages went into Cale's lungs and began to have a coughing fit. He snapped the book shut and opened his locked draw, placed the diary in it and closed it once more.
---
Hans could still remember it, like it was yesterday, the day he met his young master, and how he saved him, from a sad little fate, that was the gate opening to have a chance to be close to the young master.
It was a cold and stormy night, looking around the streets picking up scrapes from the floor he glanced up to the dark clouds engulfing the moon and casting an eerie glow upon the earth. He found myself stranded on a deserted road, seeking refuge from the relentless rain.
He wasn't in the right mind the poor boy was lasting 4 days without food, because of that everything has been like it was sneaking up on him. He could see a window of a small silhouette walk by. Desperate for shelter, he hesitantly approached the front door and cautiously knocked.
To his surprise, the door creaked open without any response to my presence, it didn't make sense of a wealthy manor such as this, has its west wing door open to allow anyone in if they pleased. The rain started to get aggressive leaving the boy with limited options, with no other option available, He cautiously stepped inside, every sense heightened by the anticipation of the unknown. The mansion was a labyrinth of ornately decorated corridors and dimly lit rooms filled with cobwebs, it didn't seem like it was getting taken care of.
As I continued my exploration, a peculiar silence filled the air, broken only by the distant sound of thunder rumbling through the night sky. It was then that I heard it a soft, sniffle's echoing from somewhere deep within the house.
As they say, the curiosity killed the cat.
He followed the source of the faint sobbing, eventually arriving at a green house filled with dead flowers. At the end of a small, round table he saw a young boy, no older than twelve, his piercing brown eyes fixed upon Hans. Beside him stood a tall, sinister figure, dressed in a crisp black suit a butler with a twisted smile.
The butler's icy gaze locked onto Hans, sending a shiver down his spine. His appearance was impeccably formal, but there was something deeply unsettling about him. His face seemed unnaturally pale, enhancing the intensity of his fiery red eyes. His thin lips curled into an eerie grin.
The butler spoke with a chilling tone, his voice sending shivers down his spine. "Welcome to my young master's abode. I trust you did not think you could enter without an invitation?"
Fear gripped the poor boy, but he managed to stammer out an apology, explaining that I had sought shelter from the storm. The butler took a step closer, his presence suffocating and overwhelming.
"My young master does not take kindly to uninvited guests," he sneered. "You shall pay for your audacity."
Before the boy could react, the young master suddenly sprang to his feet, his eyes filled with a twisted excitement. He ordered the butler to release the boy, intrigued by my unexpected arrival. Reluctantly, the butler stepped aside, allowing him to catch my breath. The small young master then told the butler to leave them to talk.
With the butler gone, the young master turned his full attention to the kid, who seemed wary and uncertain. Slowly and gently, he approached the child, making sure not to startle him further. "Hey there," he said softly, crouching down to the child's level. "My name is young master Cale, what's your name?"
The kid hesitated for a moment, but seeing the genuine kindness in the young master's eyes despite seeing the dry tear stains, he decided to respond. "Hans," he whispered.
"Well, Hans, it's nice to meet you," the young master replied blankly but with a hint of warmness to ease the child. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
Hans eyes widened with surprise and hunger. "Yes, please," he replied timidly.
The young master smiled and led Hans to the dining room. He grabbed a simple but delicious meal, ensuring that it was to Hans' liking. They sat at the table together, engaging in small talk and gradually building a bond of trust.
As they shared the meal, the young master reassured Hans that he was safe now. Looking back on it now, he still didn't know if his young master remembered that memory or it was just his to remember, having it burned into his memory. A bitter feeling coursed through his body, and bit his lip.