Eighty percent of this was written at midnight on half a brain, and I didn't do that much editing. Bound to be mistakes and weird grammar in here.
Pretend they're the servants of whatever Ancient you wish.
Maximilian Roivas ground his teeth as he ascended the stairs of the mansion he owned. His mansion. Yes. His mansion. Not the guardians' mansion. Not the Ancient One's. His. His mansion. And he was going to prove it. He had been watching his servants carry on with their duties, had been watching their bodies move with the sick fascination of an ill doctor. Their necks popped and bulged, their arms were just a little too long, their yawns were gaunt and sharp. He had been too late to save the mansion, and the people he told only laughed nervously and waved him off. So be it then, he'd have to do it all by himself. The guardian city of Ehn'ga would fall to his hand, and he would start with dealing with the pestilence plaguing the rooms of his mansion.
Pushing through the ornate doors at the top of the staircase of his mansion, Maximilian's fingers twitched around the flintlock pistols in his hands. Long, spindly fingers etched angry markings on the insides of his skull, itching at the back of his brain hungrily. As he approached the door to the servants' room in his mansion, the fingers began to scratch deeper into the bone of his cranium, and he grinned. He was right, they were all pests and should be treated as such. They were in his mansion without his permission, and now he was going to give them permission to leave the premise forever. The cold moon shone in through the broken window on the far end of the hall, glittering harshly on the shards of colored glass that littered the rug. He had ordered that the servants weren't to fix it, that he wanted a different design for the window before they cleaned anything. Yes. Sigils of the Corpse God, of Mantorok and his black heart. Sigils that would help protect his mansion because the Corpse God was the only other one on his side.
Noises fluttered from the servants' room, unidentifiable as human or inhuman. He didn't know what sort of task was being carried out by the sound of the noise, but he knew, knew by the scratchings in his head that it was the evil work of his enemy. Fingernails raked in his head, and he opened the door and stepped in.
There they were, all sleeping peacefully as though they thought they were human. Maximilian looked at each of them, stared at them with a loving pity as a parent is to a naïve child.
The lead bullet roared and feathers exploded into the room as Maximilian shot one in the heart. The surviving three servants woke from their sleep at the noise, eyes wide in terror and confusion. Maximilian shot another servant before he could move, blood splattering his dapper clothing. Gaping in shock at their master, the two servants failed to form words as he dropped both pistols and pulled the sabre from its scabbard fastened at his ample waist. The fingers in his skull clawed in a hungry frenzy, sending his heart rate to a delightful skyrocket that singed his vision red and gifted his mouth with the smile of the falsely righteous. Roaring, he watched as one of the slaves cowered in his bed as Maximilian charged, shining sabre in hand. The sabre flashed and sooner rather than later the servant's pale neck was split, a small fountain of blood squirting from the shredded jugular, coloring the servant's powdered wig resting on the bed-knob. Maximilian turned to see the last servant, a lean black man, leap towards him, fists raised in desperation. The sabre lunged, puncturing the servant's soft belly. The servant choked, and Maximilian beamed in approval at the bloodstained tip poking out of the servant's night-gown. Convulsing and twitching, the servant coughed and trembled before falling limp on Maximilian's shoulder. Shoving the body off of the sabre's blade, he kicked the crumpled man aside and looked around the room. Feathers drifted on the violent air, angelic at first sight and chaotic upon further inspection. Maximilian spat a wad of tobacco on the servant at his feet and stepped around, inspecting every body for extra or missing bones, cracked flesh, and baseless shapes.
None that he had killed showed any signs of outwards monstrosity, but he knew for a fact that they were servants of the enemy residing here in his mansion, knowing that the ruins of Ehn'ga lied below the foundations of the inherited house. Better to get rid of them now before they evolved into dangers.
The spine of one dead servant's body pushed forward past the jugular, and Maximilian's eyes grew wide as a snarl pushed his cheeks upwards. A thin skeleton hidden within the thick meat of the servant began to undulate and crawl through its fleshy armor. Maximilian stared intently, gripping the reddened sabre and knowing that it was only a matter of time before the bone-thief would emerge.
The body shuddered then quieted. Maximilian raised the sabre over the cadaver moments before it exploded in a spray of blood, guts, and bile. Warm and sticky, the contents of the former human being hit the ceiling, the walls, the fine hardwood floor, and Maximilian himself, peppering his scraggy beard and wig. His cravat, soaked with blood and bile, gave way to Maximilian's scream of rage as he brought the sabre down on the bone-thief's waist, severing the spinal cord. The creature screeched something unholy before burning at the edges as it retreated back into its dimension of evil and darkness.
Yes, he had always known that they were hiding everywhere. But they could hide no longer, for this was his mansion and he was going to prove it so.
Burn the bodies! The fingers shrieked against his brain, Burn the bodies to make sure! None shall live to bring Darkness to this world!
Maximilian ripped a blood-stained feather away from his eyes and dropped the sabre. Pulling the dead bodies to the center of the room, he struck flint until the powder on their wigs lit up, urging the bodies to burn. A delicious smell wafted through the air and Maximilian grinned. The smell of victory. He would burn the fleshy coats away from these bone-thieves and expose them. They must've been too smart to cast away their disguises, knowing that he would kill them for sure then. But he was smarter than them. They couldn't hide from the fire now, no.
"Master Roivas sir?" Maximilian's head snapped to the closed doorway where a woman's shaky voice and hands knocked on the door, "Is that you, sir? Are you hurt?"
Maximilian opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it before she could get a look at the room. She was a maid of his mansion, and a pale one at that. Too pale. The moon actually brought some color to her face. He watched as she gulped, the saliva she swallowed traveling down her throat in a most unnatural way. Before she could respond, he drove the bloodied sabre between her breasts, relishing in the satisfying squelch of blood, flesh and bone to the razor-sharp metal.
She screamed and cried, pawing at the sword imbedded in her chest. Blood began to trickle down, staining her once impeccable apron. Maximilian scowled at her ugly tears and ripped the sabre away, tearing her torso asunder. Falling to her knees, she groped at the ripped pieces of her torso as if she was trying to piece them back to the way they used to be, salty tears streaking down her face. Maximilian watched her, waiting for the bone-thief to emerge because he swore he saw her skin bubble menacingly in a dead giveaway. When she started to cough and retch up endless amounts of blood he realized that this bone-thief was smarter, just like the other ones burning behind him right now, and with one flick of the sabre he decapitated her, her weeping head tumbling off of her shoulders and rolling to rest against the oak trim. The shredded body collapsed against his knickers and he kicked it away.
A blanket of fear swept over his mansion and Maximilian grinned. Yes. They should be afraid. He was going to expose them all for who they really were, those damned bone-thieves. Straightening his cravat, he went back into the servants' quarters just as the fire was licking at the ceiling above it. Pulling the Tome of Eternal Darkness from his coat, he set it on the ground and flipped to a marked page, and recited a devilish incantation. Three bright, fiery runes ripped a portal to the otherworldly dimensions, summoning a great wall to rise up to guard the smoldering remnants of the false bodies of the servants. Maximilian began to chuckle, and was about to stand when the Tome of Eternal Darkness melted away from his fingertips. He gaped, gawked, and screamed in rage and terror as two men kicked down the door and grabbed him by the arms. How they had gotten into his mansion Maximilian knew not, but he knew that they were just as bad as the enemy as they dragged him away, sentencing him with delirium and locking him away from the city of Ehn'ga and the evil he swore to destroy that had taken back his mansion.
All that was his was lost now, as was he himself.
May the rats eat your eyes! I am now lost to your cause! The Darkness comes...! It will damn us all!