BARONESS

The rain is coming down in sheets as I finally break the crest of the hill. I turn about and allow my eyes to follow every bump and curve that the old, misused path takes from down the steep hillside, all the way to the closest town. It’s nearing evening and the lights have been on for a short while, allowing the occupants to act unfettered from the binding that darkness used to have over we, who are not nocturnal.

I turn again and this time I stare with great intensity at my prize so hard fought. An old castle that has fallen into disrepair towers before me despite the distance that still separates us. My footsteps become emboldened partly because the rest of the way is flat, level ground, but mostly because my goal is now within proper reach.

Soon I am standing in the shelter provided by the old, stone battlements surrounding the castle and pull upon a chord that should alert someone to my presence. I withdraw my hand to the inside of my rain jacket which holds back, only to a certain degree, the precipitation that’s coming down in droves.

The door opens only a crack, just enough to allow a large, bloodshot eye to stare upon me. It regards me with a disinterested air bordering on indignant with a stare that cuts right through my shivering body and lances me straight through the heart.

“I am here to see the baroness,” I announce through chattering teeth and quivering tongue.

Silence from the eye that will not stop staring and swear hasn't blinked once.

“To apply for the position she had recently advertised,” I state my case while I will myself to stand up and face down this ominous threat who no doubt is far more pitiful than the unwavering eye will allude to.

Nothing but empty air.

I put a hand to the door and push, but find that I can't budge it an inch. “Please,” I entreat once I find that any progress on my part is completely halted.

A sudden light flashes within the dark recess before me and I can hear unintelligible dialogue from the one standing before me. I hear a snap and the light cuts off. After which the door slowly opens an inch at a time until there is just enough room for me to squeeze inside. An invitation I readily take up without a word spoken.

I squeeze inside, brushing uncomfortably close to the doorman who I now see is a tall, grizzly looking individual while still holding the proper bearing of one who looks after an aristocrat and I can feel all the bumps that suggest a heavily muscular physique that has me worried that I could be crushed in an instant without a single sweat broken.

An uncomfortable, short time passes as I slip inside. The first thing I note is the bare bulb that gives just enough light for me to see with relative ease, giving me full sight of the spoiled ceiling which drips continuously. I gulp quite loud and the sound echoes hollowly against the walls leaving an uneasy feeling creeping under my skin, all while I flash my eyes around the room in an attempt to avoid the eyes that continue to stare upon me, unflinching.

The moment at last ends with the snap of a shutting door centering my focus on the noise and the towering figure who continues to stare. A sweat starts to break out over my forehead and I'm only too glad when he averts his gaze and makes his way to the other side of the room. He opens the door wide on the other side and I can see the heavy veil of rain still coming down.

The falling water greets me before I have even left the shelter and I’m glad to see an awning that stretches across the inner grounds and ends at the keep. I remark silently to myself that the castle itself is more like a heavily fortified estate, than a solid construction for the support of an entire city. As such, I try to envision an entire community busily keeping the grounds while holding commerce.

Though the awning shields our persons from the rain it does little to keep the ground under our feet from turning to mud. Without the assistance of the gravel strewn about, I feel it would have been impossible to scale without losing my boots. I just wish there weren't so many strangely shaped pieces that make it hard to keep my footing, but I'm able to make my way without incident.

The inner grounds are not flat, they taper to the keep itself causing it to appear more grandiose and it is to the large set of double doors which grace the entrance that we’re soon upon, coming to the end of the awning. I’m gestured to a halt and stand within a few feet of the doors. The large paw borne by the hulking figure seems menacing and I don’t wish to trifle with it.

He digs into his pocket and fishes out a cellphone that flips open and emits a bright light which bathes his face. A single button is pressed and the receiver is brought to his face. He speaks into the device and though I stand only a few feet away I still cannot understand a single word he says. To my ear it seems as though he is grumbling before snapping the phone shut and returning it to his pocket.

The oversized brute casts a suspicious eye, bordering on invasive, before taking hold of the latch and opening one of the doors. He waves his massive paw and ushers me inside. Without further delay I cross the threshold and find myself now fully embraced by the cozy atmosphere of the sound structure that is the building of occupancy.

My first sight, once within, is one that, had I not witnessed it myself, I would not have believed it could have been spontaneous. At the very top of a pair of spiral staircases stands a woman regally dressed and looking down upon me from its peak, a scene right out of an old painting. She's dressed in a dark blue gown and wears white gloves.

She’s holding a pair of spectacles that are attached to the end of a thin, metallic pole and hang just at the end of her nose. All of this supported by a pose I assume she has practiced a thousand times before to stare at the lower creatures, such as myself and I can feel the full weight of her ire that she has to rely on anyone other than herself for her day to day needs.

I’m at a loss for conscientious thought and so revert to an instinctual action and bow, bow before the queen of the stair or baroness as the case may be. The door closes noisily behind me and I eye my downright scary looking guide as he stares in my direction even as he stands perfectly still, to the point of preternatural.

“I’m here-” my voice cracks and breaks making me sound like an idiot.

“I know why you are here,” the baroness snips at me and gazes through her magnified spectacles.

With grace becoming to angels, she descends the stair, each step so ginger and pristine that I almost believe the platform to be too fragile for any normal step. She soon comes to the end of her flight and now stands before me. She scans me thoroughly and already I know she doesn’t approve of me.

She has a kind of aristocratic air about her, one I’m certain has been bred into her. And if that is true, it means she has to look down upon me and my paupers clothing. Though to be honest, I’m certain without her elaborate clothing she probably looks worse than I. Suddenly, my head takes it a step too far and she appears naked. I shield my eyes, which doesn’t help. Luckily, the image soon passes, but not the bad taste in my mouth.

The woman does nothing, just stands. I then become acutely aware that the gargantuan man who had shown me in is standing just behind me. I can feel his eyes burning through me as well as his hatred of me. I'm in grave danger and I can feel my life tripping toward the edge with naught a single anchor to halt the process and save my soul.

We are all cut off from society and I know a simple gesture toward me, even one misunderstood would be all that is necessary for him to wrap his oversized hand around my throat and squeeze. The baroness turns about and carries on into a large sitting room. The keep I find, unlike the rest of the estate, is in near pristine condition and as far as I can tell, is the same as it was back in its heyday, minus the electric lights that have been applied liberally.

The woman sits down on a large, plush chair that’s three times as tall as she is. I, on the other hand, am issued to a very small, cramped chair that has been removed from its resting place by the wall. I’m not embittered by the gesture, after all I am just the potential help, there's no reason to expect superb hospitality.

“I'm sure you're aware of my name, but I prefer to introduce myself anyway,” she starts in as she splays her garment far and wide. “I am Baroness Aldrean. And no, you may not call me by my first name. Sampson you have already met.”

“Yes my lady,” I address her and give a nod. “My name is Jared Buntton and I'm here-”

“I know why you're here,” she interrupts and stares me down, making my blood run cold. “And you'll find that I do not care for repeated information. Remember this the next time you speak to me.”

“Yes baroness,” I relay while feeling quite sheepish.

“Now then,” she begins in anew and sinks into her chair. “You have no doubt noticed that I and Sampson are the only persons inside the castle, that is because the servants are all fled as soon as the sun goes down; some idiotic notion of this place being haunted. You're position is to serve me during the hours that the cowards refuse to work, or are you going to turn tail and run too?”

“Not at all,” I assure her and take a swallow of air. “I don't believe in spooks.”

“Good,” she returns while maintaining her hard gaze. “And I trust you have no qualms when it comes to hard work.”

“If there's one thing my parents instilled in me it's a strong sense of devotion to any job I put my hand to,” I state the pertinent facts of my upbringing and feel a sense of pride well up inside me. “Which include the less than pleasant tasks which plague any household.”

“That's good to hear,” she relates, but does not display anything akin to happiness. “Especially since there's a good deal of cleaning to be done in the hard to reach places. Providing you still intend to take the position.”

“Baroness,” I address her and lean forward. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Good, you start right away,” she says and snaps her fingers. “Let's just hope your enthusiasm lasts.”

The baroness stands from her place and walks away while I rise to meet her departure, noting that Sampson still stares upon me with relentless eyes until he follows after the lady of the house. I take a moment to breathe a sigh of relief and take in the stuffy atmosphere that surrounds me before starting in on my work.

My days are my own as I serve almost exclusively at night, though I do little more with my free time than sleep. But the dreams I have during my rest are such that I find them difficult to express in words. I'll be having a normal dream, such as a derivative of my childhood, I'll open a door and find on the other side a strange sight and it's always the same.

I'm standing at the bottom of a grassy hill beneath the vibrant light of the moon and feel myself compelled to move forward even as my feet drag in the dirt. At the top of which is a loosely cobbled together well and at its bottom is a bright blue liquid that bubbles as though there is something just beneath the surface that is fighting to get out.

I always awake with a disquieting feeling pulling at the fringes of my mind. A strange mystery, it follows me throughout the day and I do my best to keep it deep inside and explore it one piece at a time, like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces continue to rattle around in the box especially when I'm trying to ignore it.

Cleaning up after the baroness and Sampson is not difficult as neither of them do much of anything. Mostly the behemoth just stands around, even at meal times, while her ladyship spends her time reclined with a thick book in hand. I rarely ever see them sleep, which makes me start to entertain the notion that they might be vampires or some other creature of the night. An absurd thought, it makes me smile.

The hard to reach places are another matter. All the nooks and crevices that compose such areas in the estate look as though they haven't been cleaned in ages which makes my employment make sense. And it's a good thing I haven't a fear of heights since the vaulted ceilings can be as high as three stories.

Cleaning, polishing, scrubbing, these are the activities that fill my nights while every day I find my bed and the dreams that await along with the well that is never long in coming. This time it came at the end of a perplexing dream that saw me as a surgeon stitching teddy bears together and there must have been a mass slaughter of a kind because there is no end to the waves of furry patients who grace my table, each one worse off than the last.

Fur and stuffing flies as I stitch like mad. These teddy bears aren't dying on my watch. I gaze upon my nurse who has feverishly been right there by my side anticipating all of the instruments I need at any given point. I see her mask slip away and her face appears to be that of a fish with gaping jaw and everything as water flows out of her clothing.

The liquid splashes onto the floor and starts to rise. I'm starting to worry that the room will soon be flooded when the doors open to admit the next patient. Only this time it is the well that shows up and I find myself treading water at the bottom. There's a light beneath the surface that turns the water electric blue.

I awake and find myself swimming in my sheets. Gradually I come to the realization that I'm no longer immersed in water and therefore can stop kicking like my life depends on it. I sit up and thank the angels above that no was bearing witness to my futile display of wasted effort. And I have to get my bed sheets to the laundry and hope that the dampness is strictly from sweat, but a rising odor says otherwise.

The embarrassing venture behind me I get back to work, but I'm not long into my chores when I hear the whispering in my head. That's when I remember my real job: a sleeper agent for powers that have not a name, just a face. It has the smooth skin of a child, a small set of chapped lips, a thin nose, short almost spiky hair and a pair of eyes that are far too slanted for proper sight.

Now, awake and aware, I leave my custodial instruments behind and start off for the reading room. On the way there I can feel the dormant power rising to the surface and surging throughout my body. My muscles feel alive and pulsate with incredible power. I feel as though there is no enemy, be they from heaven or hell, that I could not destroy with my bare hands.

I enter the room and immediately take note of the position of the two occupants. Sampson stands in the shadow, his eye glaring upon me while the baroness is seated in her favorite reading chair, the usual thick tome spread open in her lap, a page turning with each passing minute, a testament to her speed reading ability.

“Baroness,” I address her and she regards me with an annoyed eye. “The time has come for me to take my leave.”

She closes the tome and sets it down next to her while her gaze shifts to that of passing interest.

“But before I go, I'm afraid I'll be sending you to hell,” I relay my intentions and crack my knuckles. “Nothing personal. It's just what I was commissioned to do.”

She stands from her place and snaps her fingers. With speed akin to lightning Sampson responds by rushing behind me and hooking my arms as he lifts me into the air. I can tell he means to throw me upward and slam my person to the floor using every one of his over-developed muscles to really ring my bell. And had I not been awakened then this would surely be my final moments.

I use the momentum created by the lift to launch myself above my opponent, twist my body around, reach down and take hold of his head as I propel my feet into his back. I call upon my inner strength as I avoid his oversized paws and pull up with all my might. Harder and harder I pull until I feel something pop and the giant lug stops trying to swat me away.

Sampson's arms fall to his sides and he pitches forward and lands flat on his face with me going along for the ride and standing atop him as though he were a beast and I am the triumphant hunter. I decide to step off my prey and give him one last kick to the ribs. Either he's dead as a door-nail or the best actor I have ever seen.

I turn my eyes upon the baroness. “Well then,” I start in as I flex my arms. “How would you like to proceed?”

Her eyes remain indifferent, but I can see an underlying fear creeping in. She really didn't expect me to be able to dispatch her right hand man so quickly and easily. “You've certainly crippled me by eliminating Sampson so early in the game,” she continues, bringing all the bravado she can muster while hiding the growing unease. “But you're mistaken if you believe that the game is well and truly played to its conclusion.”

“You may be right at that,” I admit and give a nod. “But there is one little factor you are as of yet not aware of. My true strength lies not in my hands and martial displays are far from my forte.” A smirk is the only indication I give to the intense energy at my fingertips.

The baroness rises from her seat and lifts her hands slowly with all of her digits spread open and directed at me. I feel my limbs stiffen and I find my arms moving of their own accord.

“How do you like my power?” she queries as a smirk steals across her face.

“It's alright,” I struggle to speak as I push and pull my muscles. “But my ability can easily render yours useless.” I emphasize my point by stretching my arms.

“So it would seem,” she lets on, but maintains a smile upon her face. “But you forget, I have two hands.”

A mere second passes with me in complete confusion before a crushing force buckles me to my knees. I steal a glance behind me and catch sight of Sampson standing upon his own two feet with his head hanging unnaturally. He raises his palms, preparing to strike again while I turn about and back up for the next assault.

The giant of a man lumbers forward with an awkward gait, but I'm not worried. It's time to let my hair down and really let the magic flow. I start by forming a superheated ball of energy in my hand and throw it at the towering figure full of menace. The glowing sphere makes contact with his chest and in a brilliant flash of light a pillar of fire rises into the air and is gone as quickly as it came leaving not even ash to mark the spot of demise.

My foe well and truly dealt with, I turn back around and cast a smug eye to the baroness. Yet she seems to be unfazed as though she had anticipated the loss of her only asset, a state of being that completely ripped the energy out of my momentum leaving me slumped at the finish line and begging for completion.

I pay it no mind and fashion another ball to take her life as well. I toss it directly at her with a careless air, my job is as good as done. I watch her body go up in a bright, white flame, her screams echoing throughout the room and I turn to leave. My steps halt all at once as the screaming has stopped and a strange sound takes its place. Could it be laughter?

The baroness steps to the side of her burning body. Could it have been a twin?

“Puppeteering is only one of my many, many tricks,” she scoffs and covers her mouth.

I recover from my shock and throw another superheated ball. She doesn't even move and lets herself go up in a fiery pillar, only to laugh it off and step from the blazing body.

“Throw as many as you like,” she invites and stares me down. “I'll simply walk away from each of them in kind.”

I take her up on her invitation and throw a projectile for each time she steps away. The room is soon full of burning pillars and threatens to catch light. Not to mention I am getting tired of my continued bombardment and start to slump as I pant.

“Are you finished yet?” the baroness queries as she stands to the side of another dying body. “I could do this all night. Look, I'm not even winded. “You on the other hand...”

I clasp my knees to hold myself erect while I fight to keep an eye on my quarry.

“Having trouble keeping up?” she mocks me and gives a chortle. “I'm standing right here.”

My eyes flash to her current location and she disappears the next second and I'm forced to play this game of visual tag till I'm able to rest enough to start in again. It's time to switch tactics the superheated balls aren't having the desired effect. I'll need to employ a different power. I concentrate my energies and focus them into a gas cloud which I use to fill the room.

The baroness is caught off guard by the unexpected attack and collapses to the floor choking upon the gaseous mass instead of the oxygen she desperately needs. Luckily, I remembered to pack my mask with a proper filter to allow only sweet, precious air to pass through.

“What do you think?” I ask through the muffling device and fight with it to breathe properly. “I usually reserve this attack for only the gravest of circumstances, so you should consider yourself quite honored.”

“What, did you say?” the baroness ekes out and looks confused. “I can hardly, understand, a word.”

“Oh, why didn't you say? Let me just remove this mask and...” I return and make to divest myself of the impediment. “Do you really think I'm that stupid?”

She gives me one last, hard look before sinking to the floor with a thud. I give it a couple minutes to ensure she's well and truly expired before making my way to her corpse. I give her a few kicks to the ribs and wait to see if she stirs while I ventilate the room by opening the large windows to one side of the room and as I do I catch sight of the rising sun.

I take a moment to really breathe in the approaching morning. I feel myself revitalized and ready to be on my way, but not before collecting my prize. I reach down and grab her arm at which point her whole body deflates like a balloon and disembodied laughter fills the room. Just when I thought I was done a new wrinkle has to show its ugly little head.

“Surprised?” the baroness asks in a booming voice. “I told you I have many tricks.”

“You did at that,” I admit and flash my eyes about. “But I can't but feel like your bluffing.”

“Bluffing, I? That is to laugh,” she returns. “You have no idea what you are getting yourself into, but I will give you an out, simply cut off your arm and I will let you walk out of here.”

“Cut off my arm?!” I blurt incredulously and look to my appendage as I envision it missing. “I understand letting me go, but why the arm?”

“You killed my manservant,” she answers. “I have to demand some satisfaction.”

“I was merely acting in self-defense,” I excuse my earlier actions and try like mad to pinpoint her location.

“True,” the baroness concedes. “But he only did so after you threatened my life.”

I take a moment to mull over the response. “You've certainly got me over a barrel,” I acquiesce and almost laugh. “But then the whys really aren't important. Only the hows seem to matter at this point.”

“Quite so,” she carries on. “So are you going to lop off your arm, or do we continue to go our little rounds?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” I respond and prepare myself for anything.

“I thought as much,” she speaks.

All at once the air around me constricts and I'm finding it hard to breathe. All of my muscles are being squeezed without mercy, only my throat is given any leniency.

“How do you like this power?” the baroness asks as she steps into the room and circles me several times. “You should count yourself lucky since I rarely use this particular ability.”

“I'm honored,” I choke out as my eyes water. “How does this end?”

“Quite frankly with you losing an arm or your life,” she fills me in on my options and stops in front of me. “The choice is yours.”

“Given my choices,” I start in and feel myself collapsing. “I think I'll go with the arm option.” The constricting air dissipates and I find myself free to breathe and move. “Now then-” A searing pain takes hold of me.

The baroness had heated the edge of her hand and thoroughly cut off and cauterized my right arm.

I scream louder than I've ever had caused to do before. “Hey!” I bellow as I try to rein the pain and my voice in. “I was going to say take my left arm, I need my right!”

“Oops,” she says in a manner that proves she doesn't mean it. “You should have said something.”

I seethe quietly in my mind while daggers flash in my eyes and I hug my stump where my favorite arm used to protrude. I catch sight of the baroness snatching up my arm.

“I think I'll hang this on my wall,” she declares. “Something to remember you by.”

I give a halfhearted smile and make my way for the door.

“Oh and Jared,” she calls after me. “Tell your masters I'll be coming for them next.”

I nod and depart, the one arm whipped dog that I am.