Chapter 19: Harvest (Warning)
"Young Master, it's time for the harvest." A voice whispers, caressing the outer edge of his ear.
Linsey's eyes widen. Those words spoken so mockingly, so full of taunt, leaving her somewhat distraught on the sidelines. After all her hard work, the harvest would take place here of all places. What's more they wanted a resident to preform it, that's a job for the sacrificial lambs, not the predators. They have no immediate need to be obedient. An atrocity, that's what she'd call this.
Reluctantly nodding her head goodbye, Linsey waves the maids of blue away from the courtyard. Leaving only a disturbed Waylen in the courtyard, nearly alone.
He should follow her. Disregard the estate's plans for him. Watching her eyes nearly dispel themselves from her head is more than enough indication.
Waylen knew he shouldn't run. That is an action only cowards do. No matter how much he did, he would still find himself here again. Be a man and step up, no more crying. He couldn't rely on others for everything.
Inner turmoil didn't suit his expressionless face. If his thoughts presented themselves onto his outward appearance, would it gather a necessary portion of sympathy or pity?
"Give in, young master." The voice advises him, sweetly. So sweet it nearly had the opposite effect. "Prove that man right, you won't."
...
Waylen couldn't comprehend how much time had passed before reality returned to him. He found himself staring at a sick greeting of some sort. Ten older people, stand side by side. Each draped in a sheet that managed to match their faces. Legs trembling. Eyes pleading. Their mouths oddly silent.
He knew what to do. The instructions stand before him, somewhat accepting their fate. If he were merciful, he'd do it quickly instead of drawing it out, insuring a painful demise.
"No." Waylen says aloud, looking up towards blue. His almond eyes gleaming beneath the bright lights.
"Morally upright, are we?"
This time he doesn't answer, his blank expression telling more than enough as to what he thought. Waylen knew more than anyone that he couldn't be described as someone with moral upstanding. If he had committed such crimes anywhere else, his eyes would never see past incarceration. Then again, this place is just another bedazzled form of prison.
"If you don't bring out the knife, they'll do it themselves." The voice reasons, a warm feeling resonating within Waylen's body.
Each human being dressed in white, pulls out a small silver blade. Holding it out shakingly, pointing it towards there flesh.
"3,2,1"
Waylen quickly shuts his eyes, as the blade digs into their veins. Taking in the sounds of their screaming, as his nose lingered longer than he would have liked, far past the point of necessity. The taste from earlier resurfaces in his mouth, inducing a strong gag reflex. Nothing regurgitated, just another flavor of vomit added to the mix swirling in his mouth.
"Get the cup, you're not watering the grass."
"No." Waylen responds, not willing to take in the horror scene in front of him.
"I'll make an offer; do as I say you'll be reunited with Chesslynn."
Opening his almond-colored eyes, he finds the cup conveniently placed beside him. Shaking, moving his legs one after another to the ten ghostly, pale human beings. Swaying like a drunk old man off a dozen rounds of liquor. Before coming to a complete halt.
No person should be subject to this amount of suffering. Isn't that way he volunteered for in the first place?
"That resolve won't fly Waylen." The voice whispers, forcibly yanking him closer.
***
"Why weren't you put on a ban?" Linsey complains to the silver haired man.
One look at her would practically spell out the answer. Everyone could feel the intensity just outside. A toxic hold strangling them, and she is reveling in it. Obedience is the only option. Even if Waylen hadn't quite grasped that yet. Any hint of defiance is only met with the cruel fate of death by the hands that fed them.
"You're stronger than me." Xavier answers her truthfully, while lying simultaneously. Though the statement he spoke is true, the silver haired man knew it wasn't the underlying reason. Simply put it, her personality.
Linsey didn't give a damn about the intentions of the estate, as much as she'd like to claim. As long as W.S. is catered too, nothing else mattered. Catered isn't even the right word. It's a miracle the String family was able to '"tie" her down in the first place. Second in command of the circus, leading the "masters" by the nose. She's the queen of the castle. No doubt about that.
"Yet you still pretend you're the lord." She taunts, changing the clothes on her body to a much more "fitting" set. The maid ensemble had been the silly condition the String family proposed today. Now she wore a flattering blue dress that matched her eyes, covering her elbows, knees, and collar bone.
Linsey could end him on a mere whim. Between her and Waylen this thing with Johnthan Riggs may not end well. All hell would break lose if Chess is added back into the equation. Nothing would stop this little demoness from spilling her mouth "accidently." Actually, those three would quite like that. Is Xavier the odd one out or something?
"You'd be lord if you had properly dated him." Xavier points out, in an attempt to find a sore spot on this little princess.
"Why must I date a man for a title?" Linsey questions, before kicking Xaiver's ass out into the courtyard.
I am not sorry Xavier, but I would rather not die today. It is the twin's birthday after all and there is much to prepare.
Xavier witnesses a broken young man resist the man at his throat. Everyone else gasping for air, while he inches forward nearly unconscious. "Welcome to the estate." Xavier mutters, grabbing his toy and gathering the precious juices himself, unsure whether or not to let them die. W.S. really did not like corpses on his lawn, not that anyone else did. Just that he really didn't.
Sensing the coolness of Xavier's arms, he collapses in his embrace.