The Criswell's Curse

“Are you new here?” Ophelia questioned the butler after examining the messiness of his attire. The white shirt he was supposed to be using from within the trousers peeked on the left side of the fabric while his tie was crooked to the opposite end. The shoes were covered in dirt from wandering around the garden, no doubt.

“Yes, I’m a new butler.” He replied, averting his eyes. It was clear he didn’t wish to bring any attention to himself. “I just began working at the estate a couple of days ago.”

“I wonder why the Duke would hire a servant who can’t even properly greet their master.” She glared intensely, forcing him to gulp. He had to apologize but couldn’t bring himself to. Ophelia’s finger pointed to the floor beneath her feet, her eyes burning into his gaze. “Kneel.”

Being a prideful assassin, who had no respect for his victims, he hesitated. How could he show any respect to this kid? She was barely 15 and was ordering him around as if he wasn’t twice her age – having far more knowledge and insights.

“Milady...” As he was about to speak, hoping to slither away from the situation, someone else intervened.

“He is a new worker milady, please be merciful.” Ivy stepped in, causing Ophelia to lose her composure. In a single movement, she grabbed the maid’s collar, pulling her close and the poor girl’s complexion paled.

“Both of you... kneel! Immediately!” Reactively, their bodies sank to the floor. No commoner was foolish enough to enrage the future Duchess to such an extent. “Would anyone else like to speak their mind?”

The hallway grew silent. As the minutes passed, more people gathered, curious eyes who were eager to witness the misery of another. Ophelia’s attention focused on the two individuals in front of her, while Bradley simply observed her in a somewhat dazed state.

Suddenly, Gilbert peeked. He had never been the waiting, patient type.

“Did I order you to raise your head?” Whispers grew, circulating through the room, stipulating what the future held for these insubordinate acts. “It seems you haven’t been raised properly. Someone, bring a wooden plank.”

“Milady, that’s...” Olivia, who had arrived moments ago from her break, spoke up, causing the noble lady’s ruthlessness to return as fast as thunder strikes the land.

“Olivia...” Ophelia’s head leaned back; her voice as icy as a mere breeze in Frosting. “Kneel.”

And so she did. The maid’s body sunk onto the floor, head touching the carpet. It took some minutes for an older butler to arrive with a big wooden plank, his poor body wobbling from the weight of it.

Ophelia grinned and Bradley gulped, a strange feeling lurking in his heart.

“Ten strikes for his insubordination.” The servant looked at her, dumbfounded. The longer he waited, the more people talked. She glanced at the crowd. “I wonder why the trash keeps talking? Maybe you’d like to join them?”

Everyone’s soul shrunk to the size of a pea, no one dared to utter a single word back. Some even began to struggle to breathe properly, as they became too fearful of the consequences of being heard by their unhinged master. No servant wished to get on her bad side, not when the situation had reached this point.

“Do it.” She said, one last time.

The old butler fixed his suit, rose his arms high in the sky and then they dropped, lumber landing straight on Gilbert’s back. But the lady’s brows came together, clearly displeased with the lack of strength of the servant. She wanted that rat to hurt, to suffer because of his disgusting pride.

“Do you think that’s how you punish someone!?” Bradley spoke up, furious with this charade. This creature needed to know his place, needed to respect the ones who were far worthier than his shitty self.

Seeing how emotions were ruling the young noble’s mind, Ophelia smirked, already creating a devious plan in her mind. I can’t waste such opportunity now, can I...?

“Then how would you handle the situation, My Lord?”

How could he refuse such a sweet, alluring offer? He would become the knight in shining armor that saved the damsel in distress. Like clockwork, Bradley clicked his fingers and three of his servants approached from the line of people, all blending in perfectly with the crowd, unable to be spotted if one wasn’t paying enough attention.

“Aiden, beat this man ten times for his impertinence.” A servant with dark green eyes and chocolate hair tied up in a ponytail passed by, taking the plank from the old individual. “Rats should know their place.”

“Milady, please! Anything else but this...!” Gilbert rose his head, making a complete show of himself. His begging was loud, as he only now understood the severity of the situation.

The new servant was tall, fit and obviously cold-hearted as his expression remained the same, no matter how much one plead at his feet. He was a man that had seen life be taken in front of his eyes, a murderer, just like Gilbert was.

Seeing all the servants terrified, the assassin begging for his life and the maids shivering in their corner, made a thrilling sensation roll down Ophelia’s spine. In her eyes, they were all so... beautiful.

“Milady! Please have mercy...!” He yelled, forcing her to glare down at him, to his pitiful stance. Anger twirled inside her as she wished to see him suffer even further, to embarrass him to the point it would scar and haunt his soul even after death, following him into the grave.

“A man should bear the consequences of his actions, wouldn’t you agree?” She smiled cordially, unattached as the servant’s body trembled.