It was noisy.
The chatter around him made his nerves jumpy.
Traitors!
They were all traitors surrounding him. He wanted to order his butler to get him his hunting gun so he can shoot all these hypocrites! Bastards! All around him.
Forcing his shaky hands to hold still, he lifted his glass to his chapped lips. His wife told him not to go out today. Rather they should stay at the manor and draw out a plan to save themselves. It was useless they both knew it was over for them. They were no better than the peasants that flooded the towns. But that wasn't the only reason he left the house. His wife didn't know he was a member of a cult. It was part of the rule's secrecy or they would hunt him down, the debt he held would be an insignificant issue that and the manor being cursed.
He hasn't been able to sleep properly in the night. When he told his wife she glanced at him worried that the debts he carried was driving him insane but no it wasn't that.
He was so sure of it,
There was a monster in that house. He didn't know how to prove it. But he wasn't mistaken.
Only if he could back in time to that rainy day and force his past self to move the carriage forward, never to stop for a mysterious man dressed in black clothing which was so expensive it alone could buy a fortune, whose face he cannot remember. If only he controlled his inquisitiveness about how such wealthy man possessed no carriage and wanted use the opportunity to gain favor and a powerful connection, only if he pulled the carriage away far faster. he wouldn't have met the man who called himself Jared.
He should have known from the start. Jared was a stupid name.
It started quite well, the bloke introduced him to a secret underground gambling site for rich folks; nobles and those bloodhound thieves that called themselves mercenaries only to escape their real origins, peasants.
It was a kind of fight club where they bet on the key players who would win. Following the instructions of the man. Chary and uneasy he decided to indulge him.
A benefit of doubt of some sorts, He bloody regretted it.
Giving him some measly money only to be dumbstruck when twice of it came back.
Horrified, he decided to test whether it might be a one time affair. Following Jared's instructions, he betted and won again.
His greed grew insurmountable.
He borrowed lots of money including his own fortune and here he was now.
He put all his remaining resources to find the mystery man and the underground fighting club but all those stupid detective agencies came back with nothing!
"There is no such thing in existence. Are you sure you aren't mistaken Lord Chadwick? Maybe a wild dream perhaps?
He toke another heavy gulp, ignoring his conscience gnaw at him not to waste money that he didn't have. His two kids had barely eaten and his wife was starving. But he buried that feeling, the overwhelming hatred for himself as he proceeded to order another drink.
I'm sorry, Yena.
The image of a blond beautiful young woman sitting in the garden waiting for him appeared in his mind.
"Another Fountain bottle."
The bartender noiselessly brought a Fountain bottle from the display rack. It was one of the most expensive drinks in Veilmoore. If you gave it to a peasant he could buy a new cottage and a horse or two. That was his regular, he knew he should have gotten something else that is cheaper but his pride didn't let him.
Someone sat beside him at the bar.
Surprised, he pondered whether he should acknowledge the person's stupidity. Who would be so crazy to destroy his social standing by sitting beside him?
"I heard the Fountain drink was the most dandy in Veilmoore I might as well try it. Maybe it's as sublime as they say."
The voice resonates so sinister and gelid he felt goosebumps rise his skin. There was something else. He felt something that was sleeping in his body blossom.
Into a bloody flower.
His head whipped suddenly to the side. His vision momentarily black before regaining it back little by little to see a strange woman in a strange mask beside him. His peripheral vision didn't miss the shiver the bartender had too on hearing her voice.
Like they were living a nightmare.
Who let this monster in here at Veilmoore?
Conjuring a sense of reckless courage he reminded himself that whoever was behind that mask was human, so he studied her. A black gown made from midnight velvet, those materials were incredibly rare even as an Earl, his wife wanted one in the past but on hearing the price to get one he lied to her on not being able to find it.
Who was this person able to afford this apart from the Seven Rings?!
The gown had a high collar that framed over like a crown, with a sliver embroidery.
Real silver! Every last one of them was real silver! With a bell shaped sleeves draped over like shadows and a full skirt. Her hands were covered with black gloves.
And her white mask was almost faceless only possessing arrow like eyes. When he stared at them, he felt like he was staring at an abyss. But that wasn't the scary part it looked disturbingly real. Like her very own face. Then she turned her attention from the glass of Fountain placed in front of her to him.
He quickly looked away, choking on his drink. His gaze darted all over the place he had somewhat been ignoring. Quickly noticing few eyes on them, whispering and a body being carried away. He squinted at the body, confused only to see blood on the clothe, the marbled floor and shattered glasses of spilt wine. His eyes widened before turning to her.
Did she cause this? When?
"Lord Milo Chadwick, I heard you were an earl a very prominent one of high social standing. Why did you unmask yourself today?"
He froze, surprised. Of all questions he didn't expect one with an obvious answer. Was she attempting at small talk? He steadied his grip on his glass.
Was she new? Unmasking your face is a bold statement that you have denounced your position in Veilmoore. Like a white flag kind of way that you mean no trouble so they shouldn't come after to kill you immediately because you had die sooner enough.
Studying her again though it was fruitless since he couldn't see her face nor her eyes he decided to just tell he had nothing to lose.
He had lost everything already.
"I am letting them know my days are numbered already they shouldn't come after me when I break the rules."
She hummed taking a sip from her glass before gagging.
"Shitty things are always the most expensive in the society." Muttering under her breath.
Amazed, he wondered how that was even possible when her mask had no mouth nor nose. But somehow it happened, thinking about it caused him headache more than he could imagine.
He then remembered what she said, laughing. "I thought I was the only one that noticed it. But I still drank it nevertheless, if you were seen with a glass of Fountain while interacting the ladies flocked."
The weird woman sighed before joining.
The laugh started out first low and guttural, then rising into a shrill, bone-chilling cackle echoing as though it came from everywhere and nowhere, each note laced with malice and madness. It didn't just pierce the air~ it sank into his soul, leaving behind a col, creeping dread,
It sobered him up his heart racing, tersely. He suddenly watched, detached, as he body blanked out, frozen, his consciousness fading away. The harsh wrinkles on his face dissolving, his vision dark. Something was happening to him.
What is happening to me?
'Shut up, Milo. We have to leave now.'
His consciousness jolted awake from the slumber that was subtly pulling him before.
The monster! It's the same monster from before. It followed me here...