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Belle Adams' Butler

Waking up from a nightmare several hours before dawn, Belle fetched a drink of water. She paused in front of her kitchen's window when she noticed a lit lantern in front of her mansion's garden. Her butler stood there, shovel in hand. This was no hour to be gardening. Curious, she made her way outside, but when she had gotten close enough to see a large and hollow pit next to her eternally-stoic and polite butler, she saw him pick up a rotten body. A DEAD BODY! Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw her handsome butler drop the rotting body into the fresh hole. She asked in horror, "What are you doing?!" Surprised to see his young miss awake at this hour, he stared at her with the same expression he had been keeping up for all these years. He had made sure she was asleep before coming here. "Gardening." "And the body?!" she looked at him in disbelief. "Fertilizer," he answered her before picking up the shovel that was on the ground. Belle was now certain something had possessed her butler. Who gardened dead bodies?! She then heard him ask her, "Want to help me in planting it, Miss Adams?" he gave her a sweet smile. Note: If you enjoy a book of comedy with light-hearted romance and a gothic background. This book is for you~

ash_knight17 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
427 Chs

Going back to life- Part 2

The man stood near the river of the dead. His hands carried a woman who looked nothing less to a water being because of her translucent texture that didn't have a solid form as she was a dead person. Someone who had died years ago, which even Crane didn't keep count of as he didn't know she existed. His grey eyes stared down at her. 

Almost an hour had passed since he had come to stand on the bank of the river, but he hadn't let go of her. He continued to carry her in his arms. Only memory and fragment was left of Preciosa, the woman he once loved dearly and Crane still loved her. He wasn't willing to let her go but keeping her was not going to do any good. Winston had kept her out of the river for many years. If Crane knew about her, about who he was and what Winston had done, Crane would have tried to revive her but it was too late. 

Crane's hollow eyes that never had any emotion hardened at the thought of what could have been done if only he had the knowledge.