《The Scythe》


 Prologue

    Present Day.


    I hurried along the hallway holding a jewellery box. Sunlight streamed through the windows and made every surface shine like gold. The air smelled sweet, like freshly baked bread, with a hint of vanilla.


    It was a bright day, in contrast to the gloomy atmosphere of the people in the mansion.


    Reaching the end of the hallway, I knocked on the big door, balancing the box in the other hand.


    "Come in," a soft voice penetrated the air.


    I stepped inside and saw the maids lining the wall, their faces pale and some shivering.


    Oh, no.


    I slowly turned towards the dressing table. A maid, poor Jane, lay on the floor with the sharp edge of the hairbrush in her neck. Blood seeped from the wound and pooled around her body. Her mouth was open and her eyes dull.


    Too risky, too little blood. Then again, she kills the way she likes. It doesn''t have to be as messy as me.


    I looked at the figure standing above the body. Lady Charlotte. With wild red hair and cheerful blue eyes, she was the apple of everyone''s eyes.


    "Myra! You''re here!" Charlotte giggled.


    "Milady, I got it." I stepped forward and opened the box, revealing a hairpin with a shining black crystal that looked beautiful against the red cushions.


    Charlotte took the pin from the box and held it up, admiring it. "It''s beautiful."


    Looking at her demeanor, I couldn''t help but think about the girl she was just a month ago. How did she grow so much in such a short time?The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She sat down in front of the mirror and continued admiring the hairpin. I went to the body and took off the hairbrush from her neck, then turned to the maids and tilted my head towards Jane.


    The maids quietly held the body and carried her off, out of sight.


    "It''s good that they''re gone. Brush my hair. No one does it better than you."


    "Thank you, milady."


    I wiped the blood with my handkerchief and began combing her hair. Her red locks can be quite a nightmare. But it was nothing for my skilled hands.


    As long as it didn''t hurt too much, it was manageable.


    I finished brushing Charlotte''s hair and admired the results of my work. Clad in full black with her red hair highlighted, Charlotte looked like a mature princess. Her flawless skin made me want to cover them with beautiful bruises and blood.


    "There, you look beautiful, milady."


    Charlotte gave a bitter smile. "It does not matter on this day.


    Indeed.


    "Well, let''s head out."


    Charlotte walked ahead, her movements graceful. As we made their way down, a maid came rushing to us.


    "Young lady, I''m sorry to bother you. But the Marchioness is calling for Myra."


    Me? What for? This cannot be anything good.


    I looked at Charlotte. "I apologise, milady. You can go-"


    "I''m not going anywhere. I cannot let mother bully you. Let''s go."


    She grabbed my hand and dragged me back upstairs. We rushed past the servants, who gave us worried glances.


    The moment we reached the top of the stairs, a servant stopped us. "Lady Charlotte, may I ask why you''re here?"


    "Mother asked Myra to attend to her. It seems urgent."


    "Very well. I will inform the Marchioness that you are on your way." He bowed and left.


    This can only mean trouble.


    As soon as the servant left, Charlotte pulled me into another room where a small group stood. The Marchioness sat on her chair, her eyes red from sobbing and dressed in a widow''s attire, with Bessie and the Head Maid on either side of her. Their expressions were grim, like the atmosphere of the once cheerful mansion.


    "Charlotte, why are you here?" The Marchioness frowned.


    "Mother told me to come."


    "I asked for Myra, not you." She sighed. "Well, since you are here, have a seat." She gestured to the empty chair beside hers.


    Charlotte sat on the sofa and I took my place behind her. The Marchioness''s stare boreholes into my skull.


    "Myra-"


    The doors of the parlour burst open, and the Head Butler, George came in with an angry face, followed by Peelers.


    Oh, they found out. That''s too bad. Should I just kill everyone in this room?


    A constable came forward, and the two Peelers behind him pointed their rifles at me.


    "Mercy Benedict. You are under arrest. It''ll do you good if you come obediently," he said.


    "Who?" Charlotte exclaimed. "This is Myra, not some Mercy."


    "We are aware, Lady Edenshire."


    The Peelers came forward and flagged me on both sides, grabbing hold of my arms.


    I could see Charlotte''s expression darken, but all she did was glare daggers at them.


    "Let her go!" She screamed.


    How unlady-like of her. I haven''t seen her in such distress since her father passed away. Such a nice sight.


    "Charlotte Edenshire! Sit down and shut your mouth at once!" The Marchioness shouted. She turned towards the Peelers. "You can take her."


    They dragged me across the parlour, Charlotte''s scream following us. I sighed. Well, I knew this day would come.


    My life is going to be hell from now, ain''t it? Death, my love, perhaps I will meet you very soon.