The upstairs of the mansion looked as if it were part of a completely different building than the servants quarters. The halls were lined with beautifully painted portraits of old men and women and the dark, wooden floors were laid with maroon carpets threaded with golden embroidery.
Isla walked through the hall quietly. A small part of her wondering if she were even allowed to walk through them. She was still wearing her old brown dress, and scuffed black boots.
She turned a corner and was faced with a wooden door, though it was very small it still emitted waves of superiority and wealth. And as much as she hated to admit it, Isla felt fear, raw and suffocating fear.
She knocked on the door hesitantly, however her knocks got rudely interrupted by the door being swung open. She found herself face to face with, not a servant… but the Lord himself.
The man who had single handedly ruined her life.
Isla daintily curtsied, "My lord." She said sweetly, her voice not giving away half of the fear boiling under her skin.
"Come inside, brat." Lord Wangchester's face made it look as if he were eating something rather unpleasant.
Isla quickly obeyed and stepped inside the door.
"You disgusting filth of the earth. This is the last day I can bear to see such a filthy and awful face, like yours. I must give you the greatest punishment, and save the world from your existence." Lord Wangchester growled. He reached for an old looking piece of parchment and thrust it under Isla's eyes.
Isla took a step back, on the paper was a sight she had never wished to see. An old, dilapidated building. Far older and far, far fancier than the building she was currently working in. However, she knew what this house was, it was the same as sending someone to their death…and possibly it was worse. This house was the equivalent of sending a person to their worst, most painful execution possible.
And this was the location of Isla's new workplace.
"How…" Isla's throat closed as she tried to find the words she needed, but there were no words that could show this amount of horror.
"I am sending you to…the vampires." Lord Wangchester said, his face twisting into a wicked grin. His black beard shone in the firelight of the nearby fire, twinkling in the evening night.
Isla took another step back, slightly shaking her head.
Lord Wangchester lounged in an armchair near the fire, taking out a long cigar. "You leave now, pack your things. They will be ready to take you to your new home as soon as possible."
Isla turned her head abruptly, she knew how disrespectful it may seem, however if she were sentenced to death surely she was allowed to do what she pleased.
Then she ran, she had no luggage to pack so she just ran. She ran through the halls she had only just been walking so peacefully through, then she ran through the doors and into the frigid cold of the outside.
She ran and ran as quickly as she could until finally she heard her feet hitting the stones of the road.
The road to Isla's death.
She still had her eyes squeezed shut, in hope that maybe when she opened them up, she would be in a completely different world.
Then suddenly she felt a gloved hand lightly touch her back.
Isla froze, still keeping her eyes shut.
"It's not good for your health to stay out in the cold….come into my carriage, my lady." The voice whispered in her ear, just barely a breath.
But that voice, that whisper, was the most beautiful thing Isla had ever heard.
Isla turned slightly, just enough to see the owner of the voice, and she felt her heart stop.
A man stood close to her, his hand lightly resting on her back, leading her into the waiting carriage. His thin, golden eyes looked at her, with an alluring and mysterious look. A small smile played over his lips, as he looked over Isla's stupefied expression.
His pale face turned towards the carriage as he helped Isla up the stairs to the dark carriage, as if she were a princess, not a servant.
"Who…are you?" Isla said. She could feel her cheeks flush, as she looked up at the pale man.
"Surprised?" He asked her, his tone quiet and enticing. How he made his voice so perfect while being only a whisper was a mystery to her.
But just from his looks alone, Isla was sure that he was just some sort of other worldly being.
As she entered the carriage, she suddenly felt a wave of intense fatigue rush over her. Isla had to try her very hardest not to fall to her feet at that very second, and she had to try much more to keep her eyes peeled open. She refused to even blink, in fear that the man would simply disappear.
The man set her down on one of the red, plush seats before sitting down himself, rather close to her.
At one point in her life, perhaps she would have questioned this. At one point in her life, perhaps she might have even tried to get out of the carriage.
But right now, for the first time in her life Isla wanted nothing more than to be exactly where she already was.