Chapter 7 ~ Duck ~

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I had a super hard time deciding if I was gonna post this chapter or delete it and restart, but I'm keeping it for the moment. So hopefully you guys will like it.

Chapter 7 ~ Duck ~

Door after door, corridor after corridor, we went through, I had lost count of them after the twelfth door; two guards at each. The guards were big and intimidating, making me feel as small as a mouse.

“Brandy.” I looked over at Henry and felt myself raise an eyebrow. “When I say 'duck' I want you to duck, got it?”

“Why?” A grim look took over his face.

“Please, your life depends on it.”

“Okay.” I whispered as the two guards opened another door, but this time it was a room.

The crimson carpet and long thick matching drapes looked fit for a king. A desk made of dark oak was well furnished, only a few stacks of paper cluttered the top. The back of the room was pitch black, only the front where we stood was lit.

“Duck!” I hesitated and felt Henry's arm pull me aside, but it was already too late. My breath caught in my throat as the blade grazed my ear and slammed into the door, just where my head was. I could feel the thick liquid ooze down my ear and drip onto the carpet. I think I found the reason for the crimson carpet. I didn't touch my ear knowing the blood would make me feel sick to my stomach.

A voice cackled happily in a menacing tone. A few other chuckles joined in.

“Henry, you ruin my fun.” His hissy, snake-like voice gave me the creeps.

“I wouldn't call it 'fun', Mr. Mason.” Henry replied with a bored tone. I looked down and dropped Henry's hand, noticing I was gripping it for dear life.

“Oh Henry, you don't know the meaning of fun. Now, who are you my dear?” He moved forward into the light. The first thing I noticed was his black handle bar mustache; his fingers stroked it in a thoughtful manner. His hair was beginning to thin out on the top, barely reaching his wrinkling forehead.

A light nudge had me stuttering.

“B-B-Brandy, sir. Master Carthwrite sent me.” I mentally yelled at myself for looking like a timid fool. Men all used it to their advantage.

“I see. Carthwrite told me he had some papers for me. Bring them here.” Trent walked up with me to his desk, which I was grateful for. Something about Mr. Mason had my knees wanting to knock together.

I outstretched the folder towards him, but he caught my hand instead.

“Mr. Mason.” Trent growled in warning, but took no notice as two guards appeared out of the dark and stood by his sides. I tried to yank it out of his hand, but my attempt was feeble and useless.

“I have a letter for your Master. You'll take it to him, won't you.” I moved my head up and down, staring at the knife he was dragging against the palm of my captured hand. My hand shook under the blade, waiting for it to slice into my skin at any moment. “Fantastic! Let me find the envelop.” He grinned, seeming ecstatic, but there was an odd gleam in his slimy seaweed green eyes.

I looked to Trent to see if he found the odd gleam in his eye, but he stood there motionless. Henry stepped forward, glaring at Mr. Mason with hatred.

Mr. Mason lit a red candle and placed it beside the letter.

“Ah, here it is. I need your hand for a moment.” Timidly, I raised my hand, only for it to be knocked down by Henry's.

“No. I don't care about your own traditions Mr. Mason, but you will not do this to her. You have many faithful servants yourself. Use them for your twisted ways, not her.” He spat out his name with such loathing, I had never thought possible.

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