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Watanuki stumbled around the kitchen, hastily trying to prepare the meal that was expected of him. He hurriedly pulled one of the pots off the range on his way to the cupboard, as it had been threatening to boil over. He pried open the door with his foot and pulled out a container of thyme with his two available fingers not holding the pot. He then shut it with his hip as he turned to put the pot, which was now burning his hand, on the counter-top. He only had a little time before he knew the master would become angry, and it had taken him two broken fingers and a sprained wrist to realize how much he didn't want the master angry. He quickly poured the contents of the pot into a bowl, sprinkling it with the extra seasoning as he did so, and then rushed to pull out the bread that was baking.

Sighing in relief, he pulled out the perfectly browned bread and set in on a plate next to the soup. A commoner's meal (no doubt it would be complained about later), but after that earlier run in with one of the mansions many ghosts, he'd hardly had the time to prepare a feast. He'd just have to deal with a reprimand later, rather than the severe punishment of not performing at all.

He sunk to the ground, breathing heavily as one of the serving maids came in to get the meal. That had been a close call. As difficult as it was to make a meal with one hand, it would probably have been harder the next day with none. No doubt his other appendages would have been soon to follow. The serving maid nodded at him and then took the platter.

Even though it had been rushed, he was certain that the meal would be no less than mildly appetizing. After all, that's what he'd been brought here for. Forcefully taken away from his house in the village and the friendship of the lovely Himiwari. And not to mention the abundance of dead spirits haunting this god-forsaken dungeon, crawling around and moaning in those awful ways. It was enough to make his hair stand on end everywhere he went. Not that it bothered anyone else. It seemed he was the only one they plagued. That sounded like just his luck. He pulled himself up with his good hand and surveyed the mess around the kitchen. At least he wasn't in charge of the cleaning, one of the maids would take care of that.

He walked outside the kitchen and proceeded to walk down to his own quarters. He made a mental note to request for the possible services of an assistant. He tried to go over an argument in his head to make it seem like a good idea. He could ask the butler about it. No chance he would ask the master. He shivered at the thought of the punishment that he would get for making a request.

He made his way to his room and opened the door. The room was built for two people, but it was still pretty small. Luckily, he had the room to himself. The master preferred female servants, and the butler, as a trusted actual employee, got a nice sized room of his own. He dropped himself careful of his hand onto his inch-thin mattress on the floor. The accommodations were about as nice as the master himself, not that Watanuki expected anything else. He had barely gotten himself comfortable when the expected knocking came. The door opened and a dark-haired maid stood there, looking at the ground.

"The master would like to see you."

Watanuki tried to dampen the feeling of hopelessness forming in his chest and pulled himself up. He knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter.

He followed the maid to the rather large dining room and tried to keep his head down as the saw the looming figure of the master at the head of the table. He was a large, fairly ugly man with dark hair with a spray of gray. Looking at him from physical aspects, there was no clue to suggest the evil inside, but Watanuki knew all to well what cruelty he was capable of. He bit his lip nervously and kept his he firmly cast at the floor. He'd seen enough blood over the past three weeks for a lifetime.

"Is this some kind of joke, Watanuki?" came the surprisingly high-pitched, almost childlike voice.

"Sir?"

The master picked up the spoon out of the soup and let it drip into the bowl. "Is this poor excuse for a meal actually meant to be my dinner." He dropped the spoon back into the bowl and stared at Watanuki's downcast head.

"I'm sorry, sir." Watanuki spoke tonelessly, amazing the words came out without tripping over themselves.

"Why, Watanuki," the master sighed exasperatedly.

Watanuki forced his voice out again and then began to ramble. "It's… just… really hard to function in the kitchen on my own and I its hard to always know where everything's at after the maids clean up and I have trouble to tending to so many dishes at once and my hand—"

"Silence!" barked the master. Watanuki winced.

"I do not care to hear your excuses. If this happens again, you'll lose more than just your hand. Consider this a warning." He shrugged his hand, signaling Watanuki's permission to leave. Watanuki sighed inwardly and quickly made his exit, all too happy to be out of the imposing man's presence. He gratefully started to make his way to his room. The way he saw it, the meeting could have gone a lot worse.

Before he had gotten down the hallway he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and attempted to slow down his racing heart. It was only the butler. He was a thin, balding man with a face you forgot as soon as you looked at it. He was a quiet man, but he didn't seem like a bad person.

"This really should not happen again," he spoke without emotion. Watanuki assumed that whatever trouble was made around the mansion, the butler got a far share of the blame.

"I'm really sorry, this was my fault," Watanuki apologized. The butler nodded.

"If I find some assistance, would that keep this from happening anymore?"

Watanuki nodded vigorously. "Yes sir. It would help greatly. It's really hard to do all of the work on my own."

"I shall look into the matter." And with that, the man stalked off. Watanuki silently cheered. This way, if he was bothered by those awful spirits, his assistant could help with the matter of cooking. And hopefully that would help Watanuki keep his limbs. He stalked down the hallway and into his room. It was amazing how happy such a thing made him. It was this terrible place. Somehow, he vowed to himself, he'd get out of here. No matter how long it took, he'd find a way.

So, chapter one. This is my first ever fic. Ever. Please no flames.