My Life As A Maid

A/N: So anyway, the next chapter of the story is here! Oh boy. I don't know what to do anymore. Hopefully I can make this interesting enough to entertain? I'll try my best. So, off we go with chapter nineteen!

I didn't scream. I couldn't have if I'd wanted to. I was completely frozen, my brain numb. Nothing was functioning properly, couldn't function properly. Nothing registered. I looked around at the all-too-familiar room again and had to bite a shaking fist to stop myself from crying out with terror.

This couldn't be happening. I refused to believe it. It was so unbelievable, so impossible. And yet, here I was in the house, where so many of my nightmares were brought to life. But how did I wind up here? There was no way I'd been kidnapped.

Right?

I shook my head, still in shock. I stood up, knees shaking uncontrollably. I moved slowly, slowly to the door, each second feeling like an hour. Time seemed to slow as I approached the door and reached out with a pale, trembling hand.

I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath, and then twisted, waiting to come face-to-face with the butler, or Flippy's father, or Flippy himself. But... the door didn't open. It gave a stubborn click and nothing more. Not thinking and not knowing what else to do, I tried again, pulling on the door knob with as much strength as I could muster. Nothing. I was locked in.

"Oh God..." I breathed, fear taking hold. I could already feel tears by the time I reached the laundry chute and peeked up. I saw the familiar sight of Flippy's bedroom. No footsteps, though. Just eerie silence.

Trapped again.

After a couple of hours I'd been pushed past the point of sanity. The waiting around was taking its toll. Fervent glances were thrown at the door, the laundry chute, and back again. My hands had become tangled in my hair multiple times and wouldn't stop trembling; my eyes felt as if they could fall from their sockets at any moment they were so wide, so terrified.

'Like the eyes of prey.'

I was going to have a breakdown the next time I heard him in my head, the next time I saw those golden eyes interrupt my vision. I just couldn't stand the waiting. The need to know what was happening was eating at me from the inside out. But it didn't look like it would happen anytime soon.

I jumped when I heard a clunking sound, and turned to look at the door. Terrified by the thought of Flippy coming in, I stumbled back and pressed myself against the wall, opposite the door. After a minute of waiting, I decided I had nothing to lose and went for the door. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened the door.

After a few seconds of painful silence, I forced myself to open my eyes and look around. The house was the same as I remembered it, the long corridors. My eyes rested on what looked like a trail. Someone had spilled water on the floor. I followed the drops of water with my eyes and eventually ended up taking reluctant steps after them, following the makeshift guide.

After rounding one or two corners with my eyes trained on the water, I bumped into something familiar. A small cart, with various cleaning utensils on it. Resting on top of a sponge was a piece of paper with an arrow scrawled on it, pointing right, towards the kitchen. Someone had written, in clear, neat writing, on the top.

This way, sweetheart.

I winced, and took the sheet, not knowing why, really. I analyzed what was going on in my head. It was obviously a trap; I was certain of that. The whole thing reeked of Flippy's wicked thoughts. I was being led into some horrible trap. No. He wouldn't have called it that. It was just... a game. Not even that. More than a game.

This was Flippy's master-plan. And I, of course, was the pawn, being led to impending disaster. It didn't look like there were any set rules either. Follow the directions; see where they bring you. Simple. Horrifyingly so.

I went right, as I'd been shown, looking for other hints that would lead me to my doom. I was surprised at myself for not going straight to the front door. But I had a suspicion that I wouldn't have been leaving anyway, not under Flippy's watch. He wouldn't let me go twice. I kept my gaze ahead and entered the kitchen.

That's when I screamed, clamping a hand over my mouth in shock to try and stop myself. But the sight that lay before me was truly devastating. I couldn't help but scream. What I was seeing was so awful I can hardly put it into words now.

Madame Talbot sat at the main table of the kitchen, facing a dish of potatoes and vegetables, with her apron and chef hat on her as usual. Only it wasn't quite that simple. The apron, which had always been stained with grease or juice, was now soaked red with blood, spilling from a gash in her neck. Her eyes were glazed over, unseeing; her limbs were limp.

Feeling sick, I took hesitant steps toward the table. I cringed when I saw the second sheet of paper in the broad woman's hand. I took it from her carefully, tears already starting to flow. I read it, feeling horrible.

Eat up, dear, and head back down the corridor.

I looked at the food on the plate anxiously. I was starving as I hadn't eaten since... when? I didn't even know whether it was night or day. Tempted as I was, I just couldn't bring myself to eat it. I looked at the chef, staring at nothing. Uncomfortable, I felt the need to close her eyes. With a shudder, I turned away from Madame Talbot and began walking down the main corridor, where the living room and dining hall were.

At the end of the hall, in front of the door leading to the dining hall, there was another note sitting on a table. I picked it up, preparing myself on the inside.

Our butler has something for you in the dining hall. Take a look.

I opened the door, the cold knob twisting with a 'clunk' to welcome me. I took a breath and opened my eyes.

Jerome, the old and loyal butler, sat at the end of the dining hall table. Dishes laden with fruit, fish, bread and more than enough food to feed an army were laid out neatly in front of him. Gingerly, I made my way forward. I could already see blood staining his white shirt but I knew there had to be something else, so I kept pushing forward until I stood next to him.

Forcing my eyes open again, I cringed at what I saw. Jerome's hair looked as if it had been torn out by the roots. It lay scattered around the table and the carpet beneath him. But it wasn't the lack of hair that made me flinch. It was the jagged scars that served as a replacement. I stepped around to look at his face and saw that it, too, was ravaged with nasty-looking cuts. And, not to my surprise, I saw the bloody mess that spilled from his neck. His eyes were open, too. Out of respect for him, I closed them for him, feeling sorry.

I looked toward the table and saw the familiar sheet waiting for me. On top of it, though, was a green pickle. Next to it was a dark pink ribbon. Lammy and Giggles. I held back my emotions and took the sheet of paper.

Take something to eat if you want. It's not going to be used anytime soon. Your monthly cheque is waiting in my father's study. Go pick it up and we'll continue.

Knowing already it was a bad idea, I took the note and started in that direction. By the time I reached the door I was cursing myself for ever taking the job, for signing up, even. It was most definitely the biggest regret of my life, and I would have done anything at that moment to take everything back and start again.

I opened the heavy wooden door, my eyes shut, fearing what I would see. After taking a few steps I decided I had to go on with Flippy's game and end this. But I was quick to learn that opening my eyes was in fact the worst decision I'd made all day.

Flippy's father sat in his large chair in front of his desk, as always. Only he wasn't staring at paperwork or frowning at nothing in particular. In fact he wasn't looking at anything at all, even if he'd wanted to. Because his eyes had been gouged out. Streams of blood had dried along his cheeks, looking like tearstains. It wasn't the only blood that had been spilled. Through the tears in his shirt I could see where nails had been dragged along his chest. A long gash was, unsurprisingly, cut into his neck, staining his suit.

The urge to vomit was overwhelming, but there was nothing inside me that could be brought up, thankfully. Instead I was forced to let out a choked sound of disgust and fright. I'd never had much conversation with this man, and he had always been a little cold towards others. But the thought of him being murdered by his own son sent a surge of pity shooting through me.

In each of his bloodied hands was a sheet of paper. I walked over, my eyes burning with tears that wouldn't come. In his left was a sheet, which I turned from for now. In the other was a cheque. I prised it from his fingers and held it up with shakings hands to read. My name was written neatly in the left-hand corner, and I could only stare in shock when I saw my 'reward'.

Due to unsatisfactory behaviour and attendance, Flaky will remain with us until the day she dies. Have fun, darling.

I gasped, and tore the page without thinking twice. Then I tore it again. And once more. I let the pieces flutter to the ground with the other sheets I'd been holding while I snatched the sheet from Flippy's father's hand. I read it, my eyes wavering slightly.

I'm waiting on the top floor for you, sweetheart. We'll have some fun. Don't keep me waiting.

"I won't," I snarled, clenching my fist and crumpling the paper. "I won't."

Suddenly I was furious, absolutely filled to the brim with pure rage. And it wasn't self-hatred. I wasn't blaming myself now. I was angry with Flippy, for all the pain and trouble he'd cause. I forgot about the story of his past, and his mother; and anything else that had made him seem likeable. I directed all my rage towards him and made haste. Not wasting any more time worrying and panicking, I started up the nearest flight of stairs that would take me to the top floor.

I found myself running, sprinting, only realizing when I stopped on the second last floor to catch my breath and steady myself. That's when fear slowly made its return, replacing the anger that had spurred my adrenaline rush. But I couldn't stop now. Not when I was so close to getting revenge on Flippy, for myself and all the other people he'd hurt.

I forced myself up the last ten steps, trying to remain composure, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm myself down. It wasn't working. Definitely not. In fact, it was only making things worse. The false illusion of being mad, of having power, was fading rapidly. Already I could feel my knees beginning to shake. I could sense the goose-bumps rising along my arms as I took the last step towards my worst nightmare.

And as I opened my eyes, I knew this was a bad, bad idea. I knew that everything I'd done since my Mother's death was all one huge, terrible mistake. I wasn't meant for this. Someone else should have been making the journey up the stairs, not me.

Because who was I?

I was Flaky. The poor, frightened maid who was about to be killed by someone who had tormented and confused her from the day she met him. And she pitied him. And that was the saddest part of all. There was nothing I could do. And this was all a waste.

So when I looked at Flippy standing in front of me, his shiny, shiny eyes unmoving, his dagger-like teeth curving up into a smile, and carrying a bloodied knife in his hand, I knew it was over.

A/N: Woot. What was that? My gosh. Sorry for that sorry excuse of a chapter. Bit of a letdown in my opinion. Anyway, last chapter until the ending, and then the alternate one. So until then, please tell me what you thought!