In the crevasses of the Huckle mansion, music echoed out like a ghost whining for it's long lost love. Maybelle, stared up at the old, ancient, almost ruined house and felt fear grip her heart like a vice. This was where she was to work and live?
She had qualms about being with her Aunt Danton, her being so rigid and stubborn. (Even her mother hated her, her own sister, but since she was dead and Maybelle was not yet married, she was to be accompanied by her Aunt.) The thought of living with her Aunt in an abandoned mansion, slaving away under some stranger was enough to consider suicide and face the punishment on the other side. They couldn't be any worse then what she's been through, she thought.
The trip from Doesberry was punishment of the third degree. Being alone in the carriage with her Aunt, traveling across half of the country was, she was convince, a taste of the hell her aunt kept warning her about. So even though the mansion was intimidating as it leered down upon her, she couldn't wait to leave the dreaded carriage and maybe escape somewhere where she can be alone with only the singing birds and howling wolves to keep her company.
Inside the mansion, the maid rushed up the stairs with impressing speed considering her thickness. She hurried to the master's door and knocked a jittery knock.
"Master, wake up!" she whispered loudly to the door, "The help has arrived."
There was no answer from beyond the door except the hollow sound of music. Thanya, felt her heart panicked, she didn't want to disrupt her master when he is in his room. Her master was always touchy about his room, screaming about his privacy. Thanya, loved her master, as much as she refused to admit. He always treated her finer then any master should, but he was more then . . . sensitive about his room.
Taking a deep breath and mustering what courage she had (Which was quite a bit) she opened the door and peeked in. She let out her breath in a deep sigh.
He was fast asleep on his feathered bed, his body sprawled with the covers covering very little of his naked body. Lying on his stomach with drool dripping out his gapping mouth and down on his satin sheets.
His room was sprawling with space, considering the luxury it demanded, for there was only his four poster master bed, a cabinet to hold the cloths he barley wears and the monster of a desk, rubbbled in papers and feathers the like, with a few empty ink bottles littering the ground. Of course there was also the nightstand, which held his record player, booming out scratchy music of Bach, that's been played to many time before.
Lifting the needle of the spinning record, letting the music stop silent, she went to the bed.
"Master!" Thanya poked him with the tips of her fingers. Careful not the stimulate him too much. "Master!"
