Midnight Falls

9: Victor

I can’t believe him. Really and truly, what does he think I am? Certainly not a vicious monster anymore, which I suppose is a step up from before. But he made me a maid. A bloody maid. Go figure. 

I swept, I mopped, and I vacuumed. Carl did the dishes, the bathroom, and the counter and tables. At least I didn’t have to do it on my own, though I could have done it all by myself.

While he was finishing up the last of his part, I gauged that there was no harm in taking a peek in his room, considering he made me clean. Besides; it could be dirty in there and I was supposed to help him clean.

Opening the old wooden door quietly, I stuck my head in. It was small, like the rest of the house seemed. I flipped the light switch beside the door, but no lights came on. Only a small breeze fell over me telling me that I simply turned the ceiling fan on. I reached around for another switch, but found none. Sighing, I blink and call upon my night vision. The room was now bathed in a gray color scheme, like I was looking through an early night vision camera. Though, for the longest time, I had nothing to compare it to.

His bed is covered in at least 3 blankets, not including the comforter. Yet he only has one pillow. All were either black or dark gray in my vision. I couldn’t make out the full detail on the comforter, but it seemed like a fairly simple diamond design. The bedframe is a simple black metal, so not much there. In front of a small bookshelf there was a worn bean bag chair next to a lamp, a book laying in the middle. I turn the round little switch on the back of the lamp, switching off my night vision as the light turns on.

“Much better,” I mutter as I pick up the book. Charlotte's Web. He’s reading a children's book? Rereading, by the worn out look of it. I wonder why, but when I look at his bookshelf, I see that it may be the only thing he can read. All that’s on it is a layer of dust loosely marked by the clay things and colored papers most likely made by his sister. Remembering the fact that he needed money for some of her school supplies, of course he only has one battered book.

“Victor!” Little Rabbit calls from the living room. I quickly put the book down, shut off the light, and ran to the kitchen. The door almost slams because of how fast I run, but after years of running at this speed, I know all the little tricks. It doesn’t make a sound.

“Yes, Little Rabbit?” I ask him, leaning casually against the counter. I want to seem as relaxed as possible, if only just to see his annoyed face again. And I am blessed with it again when he rounds the corner, clearly annoyed that I called him Little Rabbit again.

“Stop calling me that,” he demands, earning a chuckle from me. He groans in return. “Nevermind. Ari is going to be home soon and I don’t want you to be here when she does.” I don’t want you near her. I still don’t trust you, is what he doesn’t have to say. Expected, but still hurts some.

“Alright. Where am I supposed to go in the meantime?”

“Don’t you have your own apartment or something?” He had sort of copied my form, but instead of leaning on an elbow, he was leaning on a hand. “You do have ‘hundreds of thousands of dollars’.”

“That will be the first place the High Coven will look for me, you know.” Little Rabbit rolled his eyes. “You find something I said stupid?”

“I think everything you say is stupid,” He muttered. I glared at him.

“Oy!” All Little Rabbit does is raise his hands in protest, slight smirk on his features. I did find that condescending look very attractive and I really wish he was a vampire, because I would love to court him like I have many others. Unfortunately, I’d hurt him if I tried.