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novacarpetcleaning · 1 year ago
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We guarantee to make your prized carpet Cleaning Castle Hill look as good as new. Additionally, our special Rapid Dry cleaning process is the fastest in the industry, ensuring that you receive your clean carpet in no time. Visit novacarpetcleaningcastlehill.com.au to know more.
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ltmcarpetcleaningsydney · 2 years ago
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Tile Cleaning Services
Whether you're considering having your tile and grout cleaned or you just want to know more about the process, here are some tips on how to prepare your home and get the job done. The article discusses the different types of surfaces, the best ways to prepare your home for cleaning, costs of tile and grout cleaning, and how to choose a tile cleaning service that won't damage your tiles and grout.
Costs of tile and grout cleaning
Whether you are cleaning your tile and grout yourself or hiring a professional, the cost will vary. The cost will also depend on the size and condition of the area being cleaned, as well as the method used.
Most tradespeople will give you a quote on a per-metre basis. Some services will charge a flat rate for a room, while others will offer a fixed price for the entire project.
Some companies will charge for extra services, such as sealing or spot cleaning. These can add to the total cost, especially if you are having a large room or complex surface cleaned.
You should ask for an estimate from a company representative if you are considering a large cleaning job. They should look over the surface before estimating how much grime will need to be removed.
The costs of tile and grout cleaning can range from about $279 to $645. This includes labour and setup time, as well as general contractor overhead. Some companies may also include basic sealant in the pricing.
Steps to getting ready for a tile and grout cleaning
Keeping your tile and grout clean is a constant maintenance task. A good cleaning job ensures that your flooring lasts longer. Depending on the state of your tile and grout, you may need to use several different cleaning solutions to get the job done.
There are many effective cleaning products available, from baking soda to vinegar. The best way to choose a cleaner is to ask friends and family for recommendations. It's also a good idea to test your chosen solution on an inconspicuous area of the floor first.
The old toothbrush is a great tool for scrubbing away dirt and grime from your grout lines. Be sure to wear protective gear and practice safe scrubbing techniques.
You can even make your own cleaning solution using dishwashing soap and hydrogen peroxide. This combination of ingredients is not only great for cleaning your tile and grout, it will also remove common everyday stains.
Common types of tile and grout surfaces
Choosing the correct type of tile and grout surfaces for your home is important. They can help protect your floor, walls, and ceilings. They also provide a finished look. You can choose from a variety of options to find the perfect fit for your space.
There are two main types of grout: sanded and unsanded. Each type has different benefits and uses.
Sanded Portland based cement grout is the most common type. This grout is available in both pre-mixed and dry forms. It can be a good choice for larger tiles. It is durable, waterproof, and stain-resistant. Its coarser texture makes it easier to work with. However, it can scratch certain surfaces. It is recommended for tiles with a 1/8-inch joint.
Unsanded Portland based cement grout is often used in smaller tile joints. It is smoother and contains mineral particles without grit. It is more durable and is better for vertical surfaces.
Choosing a service that won't damage your tile and grout
Choosing a tile cleaning service that won't damage your tile and grout is a crucial decision. Dirty floors not only tarnish the look of a home but also pose health risks. A professional cleaner uses the best products and technology to clean your tiles and grout.
Using general cleaners on natural stone may break down the sealant and leave your tiles vulnerable to stains. Likewise, acid-based grout cleaners can scratch and etch natural stone.
If you're looking to clean your tile and grout, you should ask the company for a written guarantee. Most companies that offer a money-back guarantee are confident in their work.
The company you choose should have the proper licenses and insurance. This is important because companies that do not have the appropriate credentials could end up cutting corners and doing a poor job. They could also be lacking the training necessary to perform a quality cleaning.
Before you decide which tile cleaner to use, check to see if it is IICRC certified. This is an organization that certifies professionals in the cleaning industry.
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snbceaning · 2 years ago
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https://www.snbcleaning.com.au/testimonials/ Cleaning company near Burwood-Professional cleaners in chatswood Read through our customer testimonials to see what our customers have to say about our end of lease cleaning services in Lidcombe NSW, Chester Hill, Fairfield, Merrylands, Auburn, Chatswood, and Castle Hill. We strive to provide the best cleaning services for our valued customers and are proud to have gained recognition for our outstanding services.
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mastercleanersblog · 17 days ago
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After-Building Cleaning
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Our after-building cleaning bookings are accompanied by our experienced supervisor. Our priority is the needs of our customers and understanding how we can help them make a difference in their lives. We make sure we hire the best and most experienced cleaners who enjoy and excel at their job. All cleaners applying for a job with us are screened and interviewed by our senior management, and all cleaners have to pass our inteAfter-Building Cleaningrnal skills test - End of Builders Clean Darlington.
After the building work has concluded we had very much advocate that you just take out and clear all the filters conditioning, the filter from the extractor, water filter in your house and clean them. It may sound odd to you but these filters will also collect mud and must be periodically cleaned to be maintained. Our customers are very happy with us, check our testimonials and discover out why. We pay special consideration to floors, making certain that all traces of building mud and debris are removed. Whether you have hardwood, tile, or carpet, we have the experience to make your flooring shine. But hiring our after-builder clean service will ensure that there aren’t any marks or labels left on anything. Our cleaners will fastidiously take away the labels & clean the places where they had been to give you a seamless & new like every little thing - End of Build Clean Castle Hill.
Our after-build cleaners will come and remodel your property again to its authentic condition. Type in your postcode and check coverage, prices, and availability in your native area. With years of expertise in after-builders cleaning, our expert staff understands the unique cleansing challenges that arise after construction or renovation work. Hiring our skilled cleansing after-construction service will be sure that every little thing is cleaned entirely safely.
An After Builders Cleaning Service must be an intensive cleaning of your home, no corner should be left unattended. After Builders Cleansing is a specialized cleansing service that includes deep cleansing of a property after renovation or building work. Your service is completed beneath full insurance coverage, by reference-vetted and educated employees, and our work is topic to inside quality control monitoring. Our submit builders cleaners can still clear the property if the renovation work is not completed, nevertheless. For more information, please visit our site https://mastercleaners.com.au/
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unstable-samurai · 4 months ago
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MADRUGADA
pt.1: open mind, open mouth, open vein
JOY X SEULGI X MALE READER
word count: 14k
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Vacationing alone in a foreign country can be an incredibly liberating experience, a true plunge into self-discovery, but sometimes, it can land you in quite the pickle. For instance, being in the middle of a forest, completely lost, with no internet signal or anything of the sort. Just you and your heavy backpack.
That was your situation, wandering for more than four hours through a maze of trees, lighting the way with your phone’s flashlight and driven by sheer will to stay alive.
Luck, fortunately, seemed to never abandon you.
When the trees began to thin out and the view cleared, an immense black stone castle emerged splendidly among the rolling hills. Lights shone in some windows, a sign that there was life inside, and perhaps, shelter.
The castle was like a colossus of dark stone, its spiked towers piercing the leaden sky. Dead vines were entwined around the cold, damp stones, like skeletal fingers trying to grasp something unattainable. There were gargoyles surrounding the wall, truly sinister things, glaring down with expressions ranging from grumpy to frankly disdainful, as if aware of every curious outsider who dared to disturb the castle’s melancholic peace. You, of course, wasted no time taking some photos to send to your friends, as soon as you got any internet signal, of course. In fact, the gargoyles didn’t seem merely decorative; something about them made them look like grotesque sentinels with eyes that seemed to follow your every move.
Your imagination tended to be fertile at the worst times.
The main gate was a monstrosity of solid wood reinforced with iron. There were some intricate carvings and symbols on the wood that you couldn’t decipher. There was no sign of a doorbell nearby, so you had no idea how to get in. That’s when, once again, luck lent you a hand. You didn’t need to do anything; the door simply opened before you, the bolts dragging with languid creaks that echoed in your ears like a scream.
Someone needs to oil that gate, damn it! you thought.
What lay before you was a courtyard of stones worn by time. The shadows seemed denser in this part, almost alive and mocking.
As you advanced, your steps echoed against the high walls, accompanied only by the whisper of the wind that snaked between the towers. The courtyard was a mosaic of cold stones, with each stone forming an intricate puzzle beneath your feet. The joints between the stones were filled with lush moss. Interspersed in this carpet of stones stood Gothic statues in the corners, figures of fallen angels with broken wings and demons in an eternal battle, their faces contorted in expressions of hatred and despair.
You took a few more photos, impressed.
The air there was heavy, saturated with the smell of damp earth and decay, as if the very environment was trying to recall an era of past glories but could only bring to mind memories of mold and moisture. Whoever took care of this castle was in dire need of a good cleaning or perhaps even a major renovation to fix everything up.
In front of you, the main door of the castle loomed with a tired majesty, like an old king who had seen better days. The wood was dark, with deep grooves that told stories of countless storms and battles. It looked like oak, but honestly, you weren’t enough of an expert in old woods to be sure. It could just as easily be a cheap imitation, although something in you doubted that whoever built this place opted for the economical choice.
This was the kind of place where you’d expect to find ghosts haunting the halls, but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine ghosts brave enough to stick around here. They probably would’ve given up and gone somewhere cozier, like a well-maintained cemetery or a theme park haunted house.
The wrought iron doorknobs, cold to the touch, were crafted in the shapes of bats with outspread wings, the eyes set with small red stones that gave the final touch to the decoration. You could even say those eyes were rubies, but again, you weren’t an expert on the subject.
You hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle. You didn’t know what kind of place this was or what kind of people were on the other side of the door, but curiosity — or perhaps destiny— pushed you forward. Your situation didn’t allow for another option, to be honest. So, asking permission from the bat, you grabbed it by the torso, and with a deep, prolonged creak, the oak (or whatever it was) door began to open. A shiver ran down your spine, a combination of fear, excitement, and maybe a little hope. After all, any place with such imposing doors and an atmosphere so thick with history (and possibly mold) couldn’t be completely uninteresting.
Inside, the contrast was immediate and disconcerting. The heavy, cold air outside was replaced by a comforting warmth that enveloped your whole body.
Your eyes were greeted by the flickering lights of candles in gold candelabras on walls lined with dark wood. You took two steps forward, and the door closed with a thud behind you, sealing you off from the outside world.
Ahead of you, a long red velvet carpet stretched down the corridor, beautiful and luxurious. The castle’s interior seemed an antithesis to its exterior. The oppression and desolation outside were replaced by a sense of welcome and safety. Ancient paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes from bygone eras and figures, though you weren’t quite sure which era. The smell in the air was no longer of decay but of polished wood, candle wax, and a faint hint of incense. Upholstered leather armchairs were arranged along the corridor, next to tables decorated with floral arrangements and old books. The oppressive darkness outside had no place here; instead, there was a feeling of being in another world, a small world whose origins and intentions were still unknown to you.
The comforting warmth of the red velvet carpet guided your steps down the corridor, each step echoing lightly in the silence, creating a strange sense of tranquility amid the castle’s grandeur.
“Hello! Is anyone home?!”
That’s what you asked, but the only thing you heard in response was the reverberation of your voice through the long empty space.
You reached the end of the corridor, where it opened into a grand hall that seemed designed with the idea that the more vast and imposing, the better. The space was truly immense, with a ceiling that seemed to defy the laws of physics by being supported by intricately carved marble columns. Some very talented — perhaps very bored — craftsman had clearly dedicated themselves to this task with an obsession bordering on madness.
In the center of the ceiling hung a magnificent chandelier, laden with lit candles that, against all odds, weren’t dripping wax on everything below them. To the left, a large fireplace was ablaze, the fire crackling and casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The heat of the fire brought a strange mix of comfort and anxiety, a feeling of being in a safe place but still with a strange sense of being watched. Perhaps it was because of the suit of armor standing in the corner of the hall, a metallic and somewhat intimidating presence that seemed out of place among the other decorations.
You looked around, your eyes sweeping the grand hall for any sign of life. There was no one in sight. With a sigh, you took your phone out of your pocket, a desperate attempt to find some internet signal in a place that seemed frozen in time. But, of course, nothing had changed. It was strangely modern in an old-fashioned way, as if the place was saying, “Yes, we’re sophisticated, but we won’t stoop to something as mundane as the internet.”
Your mind was starting to ponder the logistics of it all when, suddenly, you felt a presence in the dimness beyond the candlelight. An elegant figure emerged from the shadows of a room with a slightly open door, moving with an almost supernatural grace, as if gliding rather than walking. As she approached, the chandelier’s light began to reveal more of her figure.
When the golden light finally touched her face, you saw a woman of ethereal beauty. Her eyes glowed with an intensity that made you feel stripped to the soul. Her skin, pale as the marble that made up the castle, seemed to radiate a chill that was both alluring and a bit terrifying. She stopped a few steps away from you, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips, and for a moment, you felt captivated.
"Welcome," she said, her soft and melodious voice echoing through the hall. "It’s been a long time since the wind brought us a surprise." You were paralyzed, a mix of fear and fascination growing in your chest. Joy moved closer, maintaining her beautiful smile. "We rarely have visitors," she continued, her eyes fixed on yours, as if reading your soul. "I hope your stay here will be... pleasant. By the way, you can call me 'Joy,' it's a nickname I've carried for years. And it's easy to remember."
Joy's dress was a spectacle of fabric and craftsmanship that seemed to have been taken from the pages of a particularly dark Victorian romance. The black velvet absorbed the ambient light, creating an illusion of infinite depth, as if Joy were dressed in pure darkness.
The bodice was a marvel of fit and ornamentation, hugging her slender figure with a precision worthy of acclaim. It was adorned with silver embroidery, tracing patterns of twisted vines and flowers that seemed to have bloomed at midnight. The long sleeves were tight to the elbows, where they dramatically flared into wide bell shapes.
The dress's high, slightly raised collar framed Joy's pale face, accentuating her long, graceful neck. On the back, a row of tiny buttons ran down her spine, eventually disappearing at the waist.
In short, it was the kind of attire that made anyone feel a bit inadequate beside her.
“First of all, I want to apologize for entering without notice, hmm, Joy, it's just that I didn't see-”
“Absurd! You entered because we wanted you to enter,” she said, impassive and polite. “Tell me, by any chance, are you a tourist?”
“Yes, I am,” you also said your name and where you came from, her attentively listening to you the whole time. “You know, I met some cool guys at a pub and they invited me to a party and to sleep over, but I think I got the address wrong...”
“Oh, dear, you certainly did,”
Something about Joy – maybe the sinister gleam in her eyes or the way her words sounded cultured thanks to her strong accent – made you feel slightly intimidated.
“After all, what place is this?” you asked.
“This is an old castle belonging to my family, an inheritance that has crossed generations,” she said proudly. “As you can see, it remains intact and very well cared for.”
“This place is huge! You don't live here alone, do you?”
“She lives with me, her sister,” said a sudden voice behind you.
You almost jumped, so startled you were, but you controlled your reflexes and only turned around, just to see that there was a girl behind you.
They really liked catching you off guard.
“Hello! Who are you?”
“My name is Seulgi. The second resident of the castle,” she answered, somewhat apathetically. “No need to say your name, I already heard it and, let me say, it’s not very melodious.”
You couldn’t think of anything to say in response.
“Seulgi!” Joy scolded. “This is not how we treat our guest.”
“Our intruder,” she corrected. “And I was just being honest. Or is that considered rude now?”
Seulgi, in contrast to Joy's austere and elegant presence, was dressed in an equally gothic manner, but with a sense of nonchalance and rebellion that seemed to defy convention.
Her black blouse was slightly translucent, adorned with lace and leather details that looked like they had been chosen by a pirate tailor. The long sleeves ended in frayed cuffs, as if they had had a casual encounter with a particularly temperamental pair of scissors. The V-shaped neckline, accented by a row of metal eyelets and a black satin ribbon interlaced, created an improvised corset look, highlighting her figure with an informality that screamed “fashion” and “disdain” in equal parts.
Her hair, unlike Joy's impeccable style, was loose and slightly disheveled, falling in disordered waves around her face, her forehead covered by a slightly wavy fringe. She wore subtle makeup, with black-lined eyes and lips painted a deep red.
Her outfit was a kind of artistic disorder, unlike Joy, who seemed more like the personification of royalty.
“Forgive my sister, dear, the women of this region tend to be a bit... harsh,” Joy said to you. “That backpack of yours looks quite heavy, put it somewhere here in the hall and we'll soon take it to your room.”
“Ah, but what kind of place is this, anyway? Is it an inn or what?”
The two girls exchanged glances for a moment, Joy took the lead and replied:
“Sometimes we... rent our rooms to... weary travelers or something like that. As you can see, space is not lacking.”
“Ah, I understand. Nowadays everyone needs some extra income!”
“Joy, come here with me for a moment,” said Seulgi, pulling her by the arm.
As she was led to another room, Joy said to you:
“We’ll be right back. Please take off your backpack and make yourself at home in the castle.”
“Alright, thank you.”
You took the damn backpack off your back and sighed with relief, thinking how lucky you were to have found such an incredible place and such kind people – one of them, at least.
Oh, I love traveling! you thought
Seulgi dragged Joy to one of the countless rooms in the castle. She closed the door with a click and began to pace the room, the thick coldness in the air.
“Distract that idiot while I change clothes and prepare the cutting room,” said Seulgi calmly, her voice cold as steel. “I've been missing dismembering someone.”
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Joy countered, a note of concern in her voice. “It would be a waste to devour him. We'll dine like queens for a few nights and then go back to scarcity. It’s more sensible to keep him here while we drink his blood.”
“But I want to eat meat!” Seulgi protested.
“I know, I do too,” Joy admitted, trying to calm her sister. “But you know we’re facing a difficult time. We can’t afford to lose a food source like this. Logistically, it’s smarter to keep him here until, I don’t know, another prey appears by chance.”
“More people appearing by chance would be a bad sign,” Seulgi retorted. “But come on, can't we just cut off one of his legs?”
“No. That would stress him out and make it harder for him to cooperate with us,” Joy argued, sighing. “By the way, how did he get past the invisibility field?”
“I told you that damn sphere was having issues. We need to check it later,” Seulgi responded.
“Okay. In the meantime, we need to make him comfortable and we also need human food. Remember that farm we spotted the other day? Go there and get some food for him to have dinner.”
“Why me?” Seulgi asked, crossing her arms.
“Because you’re the only one who can enter and hypnotize the residents, so you don’t need to kill them.”
“What if it’s self-defense?” Seulgi suggested, a sadistic gleam in her eyes.
“Don’t even think about it! That’s not going to happen, Seulgi. We can’t have traces of murder near the castle. Haven’t the suspicions in town already grown enough for you? Now, go, go!” Joy insisted, pushing her sister towards the window.
Seulgi rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh that declared her lack of enthusiasm for the assigned task, but, as always, agreed in the end.
“But let it be clear that I’ll be the first to suck his blood,” she muttered, her voice filled with boredom and resignation.
“Of course, that will be our agreement,” Joy promised.
She approached the window, the floorboards creaking under her feet as if protesting each step. Seulgi climbed onto the sill with the grace of someone who had done this a thousand times, but still hated every second.
Seulgi cast a last look at Joy, hoping, for a fleeting moment, that she would change her mind. But Joy, with her enigmatic smile and shining eyes, made no move. Nothing but that sepulchral silence that seemed to be the castle's signature. Nothing but the sound of the wind whispering through the trees outside, as if mocking Seulgi's little hope.
Without further hesitation, she launched into the air, her body transforming into a cloud of shadows and wings in the blink of an eye. The metamorphosis was instantaneous and fantastic, as if reality itself had torn for a moment. Seulgi's dark garments dissolved, turning into thin, shimmering membranes, and her hands and feet twisted into sharp claws.
The bat that was Seulgi flapped its wings once and vanished into the twilight of the night, becoming one with the shadows outside. The night swallowed her unceremoniously, her tiny body lost in the dark vastness.
Joy twirled on her heels, quickly adjusted her dress, gave her hair a final touch, and left the room.
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You were staring indiscreetly at that ancient armor that had caught your attention. It was ridiculously large, standing against the wall like a soldier who had lost the war and was turned into decoration. Like the gargoyles lurking above, something about it conveyed the sense that it was more than just a mere adornment of the castle. But that impression probably arose because it was your first time seeing real armor up close. With an uncontrollable curiosity, you lightly tapped on the metal chest, the sound echoing like a funeral drum.
As you prepared to take a photo, a voice cut through the silence:
"Great! You've met our butler."
You turned abruptly, your heart leaping in your chest. Joy stood behind you, with that indecipherable smile from before.
"Uh," you said, still trying to catch your breath. "You mean this armor?"
"It’s not just an armor," Joy replied.
She gestured with her finger, and suddenly the armor began to move. The metal creaked and contorted as if waking from a deep slumber. You fell to the floor, the shock knocking your legs out from under you, and crawled backward, completely speechless.
"I thought there was no one inside! It had been standing in the same corner since I arrived in the hall."
"He's shy," Joy explained with a slight laugh. "And, by the way, he doesn’t talk, so don’t bother asking questions. Although he can still understand what you say. He can still guide you around the rooms if you want to go to the bathroom or your room."
"Ah, okay..." you said, still trying to process the situation. "And what's his name?"
Joy seemed to think for a moment, as if it were a question with multiple possible answers.
"Mr. Hollow."
"Seriously? That sounds kind of... offensive or something."
"It's just a nickname," said Joy, with a mischievous smile. "Because of his deathly silence, as if the armor were empty. Isn’t it creative?"
"Uh, I guess so," you replied, still a bit unsettled.
"Very well, Mr. Hollow, take our guest’s backpack to one of the guest rooms."
The armor guy, or rather Mr. Hollow, walked past you with metallic and precise steps. He bent down with surprising elegance for a metal figure, picked up your backpack, and headed for the stairs. You stood up, trying to regain your nonchalant posture.
"Where can I find an outlet to charge my phone?" you asked, looking around the vast hall with its antique furniture and lit chandeliers.
"Oh, don’t be silly, we don't have that kind of thing here," replied Joy.
"No?" you questioned, incredulous. "How do you do everything here? And how are the doors automated?"
Joy sighed, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"In our culture, it's rude to ask such questions, dear. Please accept that we have no electricity here."
"Oh, I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend your people," you said, somewhat awkwardly.
Suddenly, without any warning, Joy grabbed your cheek as if you were a baby, saying in a sweet voice:
"You really are a good boy!"
"Err... Thanks?" you replied, not quite sure how to react.
Joy let out a melodious laugh and tilted her head to the side.
"Tell me, are you hungry by any chance?"
"Famished! I was just about to ask about dinner. You serve dinner to guests, right?" you asked, your stomach growling as if to emphasize your question.
"Of course! What do you think we are? Seulgi is in the kitchen right now preparing a delicious, loving, homemade meal," said Joy, winking at you.
"Awesome! I can't wait to eat!" you exclaimed, relieved.
"In the meantime, how about seeing your room?" Joy’s voice was soft but carried a kind of implicit authority.
She began climbing the stairs, the sound of her steps echoing in the vast and conspiratorial silence of the castle. The spiral staircase seemed designed with the same enthusiasm as a mathematical delusion, stretching infinitely upwards.
The walls along the stairs were adorned with tapestries so intricate and ancient they seemed woven by spiders who had never heard of simplicity. Each one told stories of eras lost in the mystery of centuries, with heroic figures and monsters of questionable appearance.
The paintings, immense and dusty, exuded an air of venerable disdain, as if they were there only to remind visitors that they were, indeed, mere mortals compared to the grandeur being portrayed. They were the kind of images where the eyes of the depicted seemed to follow you up the stairs, not out of malice, but with a sort of aristocratic disdain.
Joy ascended with an almost ethereal grace, her movement so fluid it seemed more like a dance than a simple walk. Her presence was a display of careless elegance; you, on the other hand, were immersed in a desperate struggle not to become a ball of awkwardness. Each step felt like a small obstacle, and you struggled to keep your balance as the castle made itself an insidious trickster.
"This castle has many hidden things," said Joy without turning around, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "But don’t worry, your room is one of the safest places here. You’ll have a wonderful view of the hills and the forest."
You were unsure whether to feel happy or not about the given information.
Finally, you reached a long corridor, illuminated by golden chandeliers. Joy stopped in front of a dark wooden door.
"This will be your room," she said, pushing the door open with ease.
The interior was surprisingly cozy, the fireplace lit, casting a warm glow that illuminated the well-preserved antique furniture. A canopy bed was made with soft linen sheets, and a large Persian rug covered the wooden floor. Your backpack was placed in the corner, near a dressing table.
"I hope you find everything to your liking," said Joy, a gentle smile on her lips. "When dinner is ready, I'll come back to let you know. Oh, and I’ll warn you in advance, don’t be alarmed if you hear noises during the night. This castle has a life of its own."
With those words, she left, leaving you alone in the room, looking around the intriguing environment, never quite shaking the feeling of being watched.
You walked to the window, the full moon illuminating your face. Joy wasn’t lying; the view outside was indeed breathtaking. The hills rolled as far as the eye could see, covered by the dense forest that now seemed like a black sea under the night sky. In the distance, the mountains rose like walls, even larger than the castle’s enormous walls, their dark shapes outlined by the silver moonlight.
You took your phone out of your pocket and snapped a panoramic photo of the view.
Well, to be honest here, of course, you weren’t going to stay in a room that didn’t even have a TV, because, let’s be real, that would be like wanting a roller coaster and ending up with a playground swing. The place simply demanded that you be an explorer, if not out of curiosity, at least to add some excitement to your life (the devil knew you were an adrenaline junkie). If there was no electricity, then there were no security cameras either — which meant your unauthorized excursions would go unnoticed, like a cockroach in the dark.
The idea of a clandestine tour wasn’t just an opportunity to get to know the castle; it was a necessity, like that inevitable urge to press the red button in a room full of "don’t touch" signs. So, with a sense of rebellion and a dash of recklessness, you decided a little exploration was definitely in order. After all, life was short, and apparently, the castle could deliver more tourist treasures than a pirate’s chest buried on any given island.
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You walked through the castle's corridors, the silence so unsettling that the noise of your shoes seemed obnoxiously loud to your ears (you hadn't even noticed they made sound before entering the castle). The walls were lit by torches that crackled in unison, casting shadows in curious shapes. You turned another corner, trying to remember the way back, but everything looked the same — a never-ending series of strange hallways and closed doors.
As you walked, a peculiar smell began to fill the air, a mix of herbs, heated metals, and something slightly rusty. Curiosity drove you to follow the olfactory trail.
Joy or Seulgi would never know, after all.
Eventually, you reached a door different from the others. It was wooden like the rest, but much sturdier, with an intricate carving that was familiar in your imagination. You'd seen this many times in things related to medicine: two snakes entwined around a rod. But you never knew its specific meaning. Surrounding the symbol, strange runes and glyphs were etched into the wood, something you didn't recognize.
Well, maybe it's a... home pharmacy? It was your best guess.
Reaching out, you almost touched the handle when you heard a soft sound behind you.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
You quickly turned around and saw Joy standing a few steps away. She held a glass vial in one hand, the red liquid inside it catching the torchlight and gleaming with a crimson hue. Her lips were tinged with red, the enigmatic smile she always wore was there, but there was a certain seriousness in her eyes.
"That room belongs to Seulgi," she said, slowly approaching, each step causing her long dress to gently drag on the floor. "Inside, she works on things your brain wouldn't have a chance of comprehending."
You took a step back, sensing the danger in her voice.
"What does she do in there?"
Joy took a sip of the red liquid, and you could almost hear the sound of the glass against her teeth.
"The kind of thing that can transform and transcend."
"I see. She's like, a pharmacist, isn't she?" you asked, hopeful this would prove to her that you weren't a dumb guy. "I know the symbol."
"No, dear, you think you know," she replied with a little laugh. "The symbol on this door is the Caduceus of Hermes, which has meanings beyond medicine. The Rod of Asclepius, now that is the true symbol of medicine, and it has only one snake wrapped around the rod."
"Oh... really?"
"It's a common mistake, don't worry."
You looked at the door again, now with a new understanding, though you still didn't know what lay behind it.
"In that case, what does this symbol on the door mean?"
"Come with me," Joy said softly, extending her free hand to you. "Answering your questions will only pique your curiosity about something you shouldn't get involved with. There are places in the castle that are safe to explore. This is not one of them. Let me show you something you'll really like."
She smiled again, and this time, there was a touch of kindness in her eyes. You hesitated for a moment, but then you took her hand, letting her guide you back through the strange corridors, away from that room and the secrets it held.
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Joy led you through corridors that, in a clear display of architecture's preference for theatricality, became more elegant and less functional, as if competing in an invisible contest of opulence. Opening a heavy, ornate door, Joy revealed a dining room that seemed a whimsical recreation of a medieval banquet, with a long wooden table covered by a linen cloth that politely screamed "luxury!"
"Welcome to our table," said Joy, with a smile that could be described as charming, if not for the hint of irony that accompanied it. "I hope you're hungry. Your gastronomic journey will be guided by me and meticulously orchestrated by Chef Seulgi."
"Wow, this is fancy!"
You settled into the chair as Joy began serving the dishes. First, a tray of roasted chicken, golden to perfection and wrapped in aromatic herbs that released an irresistible aroma. The chicken looked so appetizing that you had to restrain yourself from diving in immediately.
"Wow, I'm really starving!"
But next, Joy brought a bowl of ripe bananas, arranged in a mound that seemed an homage to some exotic fruit god. You raised an eyebrow, silently questioning what was happening.
"What we have here is a rather... eclectic selection," commented Joy, with a glint of humor in her eyes. "Seulgi is not exactly a specialist in homogeneous combinations."
You looked at Joy, hoping she was joking, but the smile and calm on her face were genuine.
"Shall we start with the chicken, perhaps?" suggested Joy, serving a generous portion on your plate. "And then, maybe a banana to accompany it?"
You nodded, still absorbing the strangeness of it all. Joy returned to the kitchen to fetch who knows what, while you stared at the table, unreactive.
"Here we have pea soup," she announced, placing a bowl in front of you. "And, of course, the donuts, if I remember the correct name... perfect for dipping in the soup, perhaps?" She laughed softly.
Lastly, Joy brought a plate of colorful jelly that was placed next to the other meals. The jelly was a bright red, the classic appearance of a children's dessert.
Joy looked at the table with a satisfied gaze, as if this culinary chaos were a masterpiece.
"Bon appétit," said Joy, sitting opposite you. "Seulgi did what she could, I hope you appreciate that."
"You're not going to eat?"
"No dear, the banquet is all yours."
"And you'd better eat it all!" said a voice behind you, almost causing a heart attack.
"Seulgi?!"
"We were just talking about your talent for diversifying the menu," said Joy. "You should have seen his face while I brought each dish."
"You didn't like it?" asked Seulgi, with a look that could pierce steel.
"Well, the chicken looks good..."
"You'll eat every last banana peel. Bringing all this here was a hellish job!"
"Seulgi, please. No need to talk about it," Joy intervened. "Sit with us and let's enjoy the company of our guest."
"I'd rather talk to a Neanderthal than talk to him."
Joy brought her hand to her mouth to hide her giggle. You felt a bit offended, but you also had to acknowledge her blunt honesty.
"Seulgi, that's no way to treat our guest! She's always like this. It's our culture, as I explained before, please don't be upset."
"Well, I appreciate the meal, Seulgi," you said, polite. "Everything looks great. Thank you for your effort in preparing all this. I'm truly grateful."
She sighed, and up close you could see the beautiful melancholy in her eyes.
"Just eat the damn food already."
And with that, she walked away, going to sit at the end of the table (which was quite long, by the way), carrying with her one of those flasks with the same red drink that Joy was drinking.
"Can I also have some of that wine?" you asked, seeing that the only drink on the table for you was a jug of water.
"Oh, dear, trust me: you won't like what we're drinking."
"Neither do we," said Seulgi, her voice distant. "Fortunately, we'll be able to drink something better soon."
Even from afar, you saw a peculiar smile spread across Seulgi's face.
"Oh, did you order some wine?" you asked, excited.
"Something like that, dear," replied Joy. "Something like that..."
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At the edge of the bed, Joy was sitting with an almost ethereal grace, while Seulgi, in slow and meticulous movements, brushed her hair. Both wore short silk nightgowns that seemed more like part of a subtle choreography: Joy in a soft pink, Seulgi in a deep red, like opposing reflections of the same flame. The cold of the room, which would make any mortal tremble, seemed nonexistent to them. Between the strands of hair and low laughter, they discussed the night with a tranquility that bordered on indifference. Until the topic they had both been avoiding came up:
"Did you find out what's wrong with the sphere?" asked Joy, her voice delicate but loaded with curiosity.
"It's the crystal, as I suspected," replied Seulgi, with a calm that only centuries can teach. "Its energy is weak, so it's starting to fail."
Joy sighed, resigned.
"When was the last time it was energized? About 500 years ago, maybe? Sooner or later this would happen."
"I need to warn you that some things will be dangerous to do while the crystal is like this," said Seulgi, continuing to brush Joy's hair with the precision of an artist. "Teleportation is one of them."
"But you teleported today!" exclaimed Joy, turning her head slightly to face Seulgi.
"How was I going to bring all that food here as just a bat, Joy?!" Seulgi replied, with a tone that mixed frustration and fatigue. "A slight stabilization problem and I could have been split in half or even exploded."
"I wouldn't have asked you to do that if I knew the risks."
"I know, I know. It's not your fault."
Joy took a long breath.
"Great, just what we needed..." Joy murmured, her eyes lost on the ceiling. "The sphere is the soul of the castle. Without it, our location could be revealed. We need to energize this crystal somehow."
"And you think I don't know that?" Seulgi replied, the brush still gliding through Joy's hair. "I'll think of something. There are several energy sources that vary in practicality and durability."
"The easiest to obtain, Seulgi, please!" Joy pleaded, her voice heavy with concern and impatience.
"Hey, don't move! I'm almost done..." Seulgi ordered, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"Sorry," Joy sighed, relaxing her shoulders. "Running this castle is terribly exhausting."
"You talk as if I do nothing around here," Seulgi retorted, her tone calm but with a touch of challenge.
"Oh, don't start, Seulgi. You know I was one of the first to support and encourage your remarkable inclination towards the esoteric arts," Joy said, a sparkle of pride in her eyes. "I appreciate what you do here, especially the blood distillation."
"But you complain about the taste," murmured Seulgi, her voice an intimate whisper.
"Oh, my sister, you know I'm a grumbler. Anyway, I love your creation. How could I not? It saved our lives for years and years," Joy concluded, her voice soft but loaded with a conviction that made her sister blush.
Seulgi stopped brushing Joy's hair and placed the brush on the nightstand by the bed. Her eyes fixed on a distant point, her mind already calculating the complexities of what was to come.
"Have you decided which approach we'll use to get that idiot's blood?" Her voice was a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"The classic Stockholm Syndrome," replied Joy.
Seulgi raised an eyebrow.
"That will take time, and it may not work."
Joy sighed, her eyes dancing with a mix of patience and determination.
"Time here doesn't matter, you know. At most, it will take a few months until he accepts the idea that he's trapped here forever... Or until we tire of him. Starting tomorrow, when the mask falls, he'll be skittish as a stray kitten, so we'll have to be considerate and not make him suffer more than necessary. This will speed up the process."
"That's a lot of work, Joy. I can simply hypnotize him and make him submit to us," said Seulgi, her voice cold but with a touch of impatience.
Joy gave a condescending smile, one Seulgi knew all too well.
"Doing that continuously will give you serious headaches, my beautiful night flower. And I don't need to remind you that gradually his brain will become so dull that we'll have to feed him by hand. I don't know about you, but I have no desire to be his nanny."
Seulgi huffed, a low sound full of frustration.
"Why do you always choose the hardest way to do things?"
"The result will be worth it, sister," said Joy, her words laden with a dark calm. "A reserve of fresh, tasty blood for a long time, and thanks to your wonderful elixir, we'll be able to drink from this source almost daily. So it will be, until the winds bring us better days."
"When will we be able to drink some blood?" asked Seulgi, her voice softer, almost reluctant.
"Tomorrow, before he 'leaves.' We'll make him feel a bit of pleasure, then we'll take advantage of his lust-doped mind to bite that beautiful neck without him complaining too much," replied Joy, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
Seulgi frowned, clearly not liking the idea.
“Wait a moment, I didn't agree to this! I'm not going to bed with him.”
“Oh, come on, Seulgi. I know you find him at least cute,” said Joy, her mischievous smile showing.
“That’s a miserable lie. I feel like tearing that idiot face of his,” Seulgi replied, her voice loaded with contempt.
“The poor boy has no idea what’s coming,” Joy said, a sadistic grin escaping her lips. “He must be sleeping now, just like an innocent child.”
“Or a lamb,” Seulgi murmured. “We can drink just a little of his blood while he's sleeping.”
“Don’t start with ideas, sister. The last time you said that, you sucked every last drop from that girl’s body. She didn’t last a day because of your insatiable thirst.”
Seulgi shrugged, responding:
“It was her fault for being so delicious.”
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You were lying on the bed, hands crossed under your head, staring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers. Exhaustion weighed on you, but sleep wouldn’t come. And no wonder, the damn castle was terribly intriguing to your mind, almost as if it were whispering, a veiled and insidious voice, for you to get up and explore it again. After the bizarre dinner, Joy had prepared a hot bath for you, and then everyone went to their respective rooms. Before leaving, she had recommended that you not leave the room until dawn, without bothering to explain why. But damn, the place was simply too fascinating for you not to take one last look before leaving the next day.
You got up, determined. A quick walk through the corridors and no one would know anything - Joy and Seulgi would be sleeping, hopefully. Maybe you’d take a peek at that secret place you still thought was some kind of pharmacy. You dressed appropriately for the cold, feeling the weight of the jacket on your shoulders that didn’t match your pajama pants, and then headed for the door. A nasty surprise against your face: it was locked. You forced the handle, but nothing happened. But how could that have happened? You could swear you saw Joy just close the door; there was no sound of the latch turning, and she wasn’t holding any key. Stranger still was the fact that the handle was warm, almost hot, as if an invisible hand were holding it and warming it with its heat.
You paced around the room, your mind buzzing with possibilities and theories, but there weren’t many options at your disposal.
Frustrated, you went back to the door, determined to try again. Touching the handle, a new surprise: it was cold now. Icy, actually. You could swear that moments ago it was warm… or was it just your imagination? What was happening here? Anyway, you pulled the door and, surprisingly, it opened as if it had never been locked.
Luck, perhaps. Your friend that never left you.
You stepped out of the room, the corridor in front of you stretching out like a beautiful yet oppressive labyrinth. The castle seemed to breathe in silence, except for a metallic sound in the distance, far in the distance, in a distant part of the castle. Maybe it was Mr. Hollow doing his… watch? The poor guy, besides being a butler, must also have been the night shift security guard.
You continued, your heart racing, and you didn’t allow yourself to stop walking because soon your mind would raise that old sign saying that your addiction to adrenaline would still kill you. Turning lefts and rights, you followed a passage that narrowed and ended in a door adorned with arabesques and symbols that seemed to be engraved in gold.
You pushed the door open and entered a surprising room, full of mirrors. They covered the walls from top to bottom, varying in size and shape. Some had intricate carved wooden frames, others were of cold, shiny metal. At first glance, they were just ordinary mirrors, reflecting your image and the room. But as you moved, the reflections didn’t behave as they should. Your images distorted, stretched, like those mirrors in amusement parks. You even had some fun making a few poses and faces for the mirrors, it was just curious that someone would have this kind of thing at home.
Well… maybe people whose ‘home’ is a damn castle have slightly different customs. As far as you knew, the rich had a taste for everything, including oddities.
You passed by a long mirror when you yawned, and suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your reflection bring its hand to its eye, as if to scratch or something. You quickly turned to the mirror. All normal. To be sure, you raised your left hand. The reflection did the same.
With a second delay.
A shiver ran down your spine. Trying to stay calm, you shook your head and the reflection did the same, but the eyes in the mirror took a while to meet yours.
You walked desperately among the mirrors, each one showing a different version of you, as if they had gathered for a freak show contest. In one mirror, you looked older, your face a map of non-existent wrinkles. In another, you were a young man who might as well have come out of an aftershave ad. And then, there was the mirror where your reflection blinked, even though you hadn’t blinked. The movements of the reflections were becoming independent of you, one of them even waved while you hadn’t moved a muscle.
You approached a large mirror with a gold frame, where the reflection smiled. But it wasn’t just any smile; it was the kind of smile you’d expect to see on a cheap soap opera villain. You couldn’t look away, captivated by the bizarreness of the situation. The reflection raised its hand, as if wanting to touch the glass, and you stepped back, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, the sound of shattering glass echoed from the other side of the room. On impulse, you ran out of the room, closing the door with a bang that echoed like thunder. A mad laugh escaped your lips. You had just experienced one of the scariest and at the same time coolest things in your life.
The adrenaline only increased.
Returning through the corridor, you made a turn that, frankly, you should never have made. After all, in the unwritten manuals of exploring mysterious places, turning in the wrong direction usually leads to unwanted encounters with monsters, ghosts, or —in your case— a half-open door. At first glance, it wasn’t something very scary. Looking to both sides and finding nothing but an alarming lack of life, you decided that curiosity was, indeed, stronger than the survival instinct.
Pushing the door slowly, you poked your head first, like a timid rabbit peeking out of its burrow. The sight that met you was of an art gallery, with the walls covered in framed paintings. Portraits of people who lived centuries ago, men in pompous and shining clothes and women in opulent dresses, all with expressions that only the faces of aristocrats possess. There was something unsettling in the air, something that made you feel a melancholic nostalgia, trying to avoid thinking too much about the memories this room was making you unlock, although this had nothing to do with your childhood or your reality.
You walked through the room slowly, each step echoing softly, the sound muffled by the thick carpet that covered the floor. You put your hand in your pocket in an involuntary gesture and muttered when you realized your cell phone wasn’t there.
Then, something caught your attention. Two portraits, side by side, stood out from the rest. The first portrayed Joy. Even through the veil of centuries, the intimidating expression and enigmatic smile were unmistakable. She was dressed in old clothes (not that she now wore what is called the latest fashion), a long dress much more elaborate than the one she wore that night, which seemed to have been made for a queen or a high-level courtesan. The artist had captured the intensity of her eyes, giving them a slight crimson glow, with a life that seemed to want to jump out of the canvas. The second portrait showed Seulgi, equally timeless. She also wore clothes reminiscent of royalty, incomparably more chic than now, mainly due to the heavy velvet mantle. The same melancholy and mystery were present in her eyes, beautifully penetrating. Behind them, a landscape of ancient constructions: a castle quite similar to the one you were in, a dying city, and, standing out in the background, a Gothic cathedral, half-cut but still impressive.
As you absorbed these visions and concepts, a sudden sensation took over your body. It was as if you were looking at a part of a past that should have remained buried. You approached the portraits, examining the details, trying to understand why Joy and Seulgi were there in those paintings, as if they were… blemishes on logic.
Suddenly, a sharp caw broke the silence. You turned abruptly to the window, where a crow perched on the sill, its black, shiny eyes fixed on you. The bird began to caw, but its words were clear, articulated in a hurried, hoarse whisper that you could understand.
“Ruuuun! Run from the castle! Run before it’s too late.”
You took a step forward, your body trembling.
“How do you… you’re talking?”
“There is a passage,” continued the crow, “where you can climb-” Before it could finish, a black figure outside passed in the blink of an eye and grabbed the crow. You could only hear the sound of claws against the stone of the sill. That and a final beastly caw that faded into the night air.
The silence that followed was staggering. Your steps toward the window were slow and careful, as if you didn't trust your own legs to do the job. On the windowsill, long black feathers that the next breeze blew away. You saved one and put it in your pocket. As if dealing with a fragile fossil, your fingers touched the spot where claws had cut into the stone... what kind of damned animal could do that?
"You are truly a curious child." The voice came soft and familiar, almost like a whisper. You turned quickly, and there was Joy, standing at the entrance to the gallery, with her enigmatic smile. She was wearing only a short silk nightgown, which looked even more provocative under the soft candlelight.
"Joy?!" Your voice came out terribly high-pitched.
"I see you found the gallery. Beautiful place, don't you think?" She took a few steps into the room.
You tried to hide your nervousness, but you knew your eyes betrayed your calm.
"Yes, very... interesting," you replied, your voice uncertain.
Joy approached the paintings, her fingers lightly brushing the golden frames. "Did you find any other interesting places?"
"Me...? No, none," you lied, but could barely maintain eye contact.
She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you sure, dear? Good boys don't lie."
"Well... I went into a room with some mirrors." You couldn't help it.
"Ah, the mirrors," she sighed as she said it. "The mirrors are just a cheap trick, you know," she said casually. "A way to entertain visitors, to give an air of peculiarity to the place."
You remembered the strange reflections, the delayed and independent movements. You tried not to show the incredulity on your face.
"Oh, sure. Mirror tricks," you murmured, more to yourself than to her. "That's what I suspected. It's pretty cool."
Joy chuckled as she moved closer to you, with a grace you weren't sure was genuine or intentional.
"And the paintings... What did you think of them?"
"There's a painting of you and Seulgi," you dared to mention, trying to sound uninterested.
"Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I'd never have known," she replied with a sarcastic giggle. "The perfect decoration for an old castle like this. My sister and I enjoy that lost-in-time aesthetic, what can we do?"
You glanced at the paintings again.
"It looks like you really lived in that time."
Joy laughed softly.
"It's the talent of the artists. They capture the essence of people and transport them to any setting."
Something about Joy conveyed a strange sense of calm. Although you didn't know her well, it seemed fine to feel carefree, as she was in front of you. Despite this, you couldn't shake off the insecurity, and, for some reason, maybe that's what forced her to be so... condescending to you.
"There was a crow here, Joy. It appeared at the window and spoke to me," you said, the disbelief clear in your voice.
Joy raised an eyebrow again and let out a soft laugh. She always seemed to be amused.
"Crows can speak sometimes. They're intelligent creatures, they know a few words if taught."
"But something out there caught it!" you exclaimed. "The poor thing didn't even finish what it was saying."
"Really?" Joy asked, and you saw a smile form on her face. "There are birds of prey out there, fast and deadly. Probably what you saw was just a hawk or an owl catching its meal. Nothing more."
She took a step closer, and you could tell she was trying to read you somehow, though her smile remained gentle. You tried to smile back, but the oddity of the whole situation still lingered in your mind. Her words should have been comforting, but something in her tone, the way she said "Nothing more," seemed to suggest exactly the opposite.
"Why did you leave your room, dear? Didn't you hear when I advised you to leave your quarters only in the morning?"
"I was thirsty, so I went out to get water. I know, I know! I should have asked someone to go with me, but I didn't want to wake you or Seulgi... and I didn't find Mr. Hollow along the way. In the end, I got lost in the castle."
You finished with your famous "I tried, come on" smile, hoping to convince her with it. And at that moment you discovered she was capable of maintaining a fatal eye contact if she wanted to.
"Mm... Thirst," she seemed to absorb the information calmly, as if you were being analyzed by a lie detector. "Okay. I understand, dear."
"It happens to the best of us, right?"
"Now," she began, changing the subject, "before I forget, can you tell me exactly what the crow said to you?" The curiosity in her eyes was painted with an uncomfortable patience.
"It wasn't anything major."
Her reaction was immutable as expected, but it was Joy's delay in speaking that made you realize she wasn't pleased with your response.
"Oh, if it wasn't anything major then there won't be a problem telling me, will there, dear?"
"Seriously. It just shouted nonsense. Like, 'castle' and other things... nonsense."
"You seem upset for not being able to hear what it wanted to say until the end. Am I wrong?"
"Well, it's not every day you hear a crow talking, is it? I wanted to know what it was capable of saying," you explained, trying to sound casual, your hands shoved in your pants pockets.
Since Joy said nothing, you spoke:
"I think I should go back to my room," it was your attempt to end the conversation.
Joy nodded, her expression softening into a solemn smile.
"Of course, let me accompany you. We don't want you getting lost again, right?"
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Although you are a great master at the art of getting lost, you soon suspected that the place Joy was taking you to was not really your room. The corridors looked different, with tapestries and furniture you didn't recognize. Some adornments were notably different: strange sculptures and even sporadic plants in the corners. The sound of your steps echoed on the stone walls, and the air seemed to get colder and denser, with a sticky aspect enveloping the entire atmosphere. It all became evident when Joy began climbing the stairs. You hadn't passed by any stairs before. The creaking of the wooden steps under your feet was almost deafening in the silence that surrounded the castle, clashing against the crow's voice that still echoed in your mind.
RUUUN!!!
The despair in its voice, the urgency with which it passed the message...
As you followed her, a mixture of nervousness and enchantment formed a combination capable of causing nausea, as if you had mixed two drinks that shouldn't be mixed.
The nervousness came from not knowing where you were being taken. Rationality insisted that you should ask, but something stopped you – maybe it was Joy's magnetism, the way she moved her hips while climbing the stairs, or the mystery that seemed to emanate from her, that almost biting confidence. With each step, the nervousness grew, making your heart beat faster, as if you were about to explore unknown and even dangerous territory.
The enchantment, on the other hand, came from the tempting vision that unfolded before you. Joy's silk nightgown rose slightly with each step, revealing a provocative portion of her buttocks. It was clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and this revelation made your mouth dry and your pulse race even more. You tried to avoid looking, out of manners and all that, but it was too difficult a task. Your eyes were naturally drawn to that sight. There was no way not to look, no reason not to look.
At a certain point, you simply let yourself appreciate it, feeling guilty and fascinated at the same time, trapped in a terribly addictive duality. Her skin seemed to glow in the candlelight, sensual shadows on her curves. The touch of silk in contrast with the bare flesh was an image that etched itself into your mind, increasing your desire and curiosity, trying to keep your mind open to what lay ahead.
The soft sound of Joy's breathing, mixed with the echo of steps, created a melody that resonated in your head, fading the crow's frightening caws, increasing the feeling that you were heading towards something inevitable.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Joy turned to you with a smile, not so enigmatic now, but somehow: arrogant.
"We're almost there, dear," she said, her voice a seductive whisper that made your hair stand on end.
She extended her hand, and you took it, feeling the cold of her skin against yours, a sensation that only intensified the growing heat inside you. She led you down a narrow hallway, the heavy silence interrupted only by the sound of your intertwined breathing.
"When you're with me, you become such a well-behaved boy," she said, her fingers casually caressing your hand, your nervousness firing every nerve.
The narrow walls of the hallway seemed to close in around you, contributing to a sense of claustrophobia and excitement. The walls were decorated with paintings of strange geometric shapes that, at first glance, seemed like bored eyes following your every move. It was as if these geometric eyes were trapped in an endless loop of watching strangers wander through the castle and were already tired of seeing the same old story unfold again. They seemed to roll their eyes – or were they triangles? – with each step you took, emitting an imaginary sigh of resignation. "Here we go again," they seemed to say, "another curious one, lost and confused. We've seen this a thousand times." The air was filled with a sweet, heavy aroma that came from the last room, similar to an exotic perfume mixed with something old.
Finally, Joy stopped in front of the large, ornate door. She opened it slowly, revealing a room that was the very embodiment of lust and mystery. The space was lit by candles arranged in silver candelabras, casting a warm and enveloping light, a true sensual opulence. The large, sumptuous bed was covered with red silk sheets, and next to it, on a table, was another bottle of that red drink, this time with a goblet beside it.
"Welcome to my room," Joy murmured, closing the door behind you. Her smile was inviting, but there was something deeper in her eyes.
"What do you think?"
"It's quite... chic," you commented, somewhat robotically. "Listen, Joy, why did you bring me here, after all?"
Before you could react, she kissed you with controlled ferocity, her cold, soft lips pressing against yours with a burning urgency. The kiss deepened quickly, tongues meeting with pure desire, a strange metallic taste on her tongue.
"You're mine now, darling," she whispered against your lips, lightly biting your lower lip. "I'll show you pleasures you never imagined."
Joy began to undress you with skillful hands, each piece of clothing falling to the floor with an almost inaudible sound. Your naked body was exposed to the cold of the room, and worse than that, your erection was visible before her. Before you could cover yourself, Joy pushed you onto the bed with extreme ease and supernatural strength.
"Lie down, darling."
She spat into her hand, a gesture so suddenly dominant it heightened your arousal. Joy came to the bed, knelt down, and began to masturbate you. Her touch was both firm and delicate, alternating between squeezes and caresses.
"Do you like this?" she murmured, her eyes fixed on yours. "I want to hear you moan for me."
You couldn't hold back the moans and murmurs, feeling terribly vulnerable.
You didn't know it could be this pleasurable.
"Oh, Joy, this is... so good," you whispered. She squeezed a little more, her hand's movements intensifying, her thumb sliding over the sensitive tip, spreading the moisture and provoking groans in your throat.
"That's right, darling," she encouraged. Another spit, directly on the head of your penis. "I want you to give yourself completely to me." She increased the pace. You could feel and hear the moisture from her saliva sliding and lubricating.
"Joy, please, don't stop," you pleaded, your hips moving instinctively towards her hand. "This is amazing. You... you're so good."
She laughed softly, a sound that made your heart race even more.
"I'll take you to the edge, darling," she promised, her voice carrying the knowledge of her power. "And then, I'll make you beg for more... Now, be a good boy and fuck me hard, okay?"
As you sat up, Joy slowly turned around on the bed. The silk nightgown rose, revealing her tempting curves and her pussy pressed against her thighs. Her pale skin gleamed in the candlelight.
"Come, darling," she murmured, her voice an invitation full of desire. "Fill me. Make me feel you."
You approached, excitement pulsing through your veins. When you penetrated her, a deep groan escaped your lips as you felt her tightness and warmth enveloping you. Slow movements, your body moving instinctively, guided by a newly awakened desire. Your hands firmly gripped her hips, pulling her against you with force, each thrust drawing moans of pleasure from Joy.
"Yes, harder! You're such a good boy!" she exclaimed, her voice heavy with need, her long black hair covering her back. "Fuck harder, darling, don't be afraid." Your hips moved with force, each thrust deeper and more intense, as you felt Joy's pussy gripping your cock, tightening and releasing in a rhythm that seemed coordinated with your movements.
You increased the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both bodies. Joy arched beneath you, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. "More, don't stop," she begged, her voice full of insatiable desire. The sensation of her pussy gripping and squeezing your cock was almost too much to bear, a delicious pressure.
Joy looked over her shoulder, her eyes shining with pleasure and challenge.
"Yes, darling, fuck me hard, just how I like it. Make me scream your name," she moaned, her hips pushing back against you, seeking more depth, more intensity. You gave it your all, each thrust harder and deeper, feeling her body shaking and tightening around you.
"Let me taste you a little more," Joy turned to you, desire shining in her eyes as she forced you to sit up on the bed. With an agile movement, she mounted your lap, the nightgown lifted to her hips. Her hands gripped your shoulders as she adjusted herself, and in an instant, you were inside her again, immersed in a sensation of addictive warmth and pressure. Joy began to ride you with a desperate intensity, your bodies pressed together, a torturous pleasure inside you.
"Yes, my darling!" she murmured between moans, her lips brushing against yours in hot kisses. "Make me feel alive!"
You felt every inch of her moving over you, the delicious friction driving you both mad. Her breasts brushed against your chest, the hardened nipples through the silk being squeezed by your fingers while her hands roamed your body, nails scratching your skin as she moaned your name, her hot breath in your ear. "You're mine," she whispered, her tone a mix of possession and adoration. "Heat that blood for me, darling. You're almost there."
Each of Joy's hip movements was a demonstration of her skill, each thrust deeper than the last, each wet kiss a point of affection in the hard sex, and you got lost in the sensation of being completely consumed by her.
Then, with a mischievous smile and a provocative gleam in her eyes, Joy changed positions. With an agile movement, she stood up, her eyes fixed on yours, guiding you. Her movements were fluid, and the transition was almost smooth, soon she was behind you, her hands delicately caressing your body, exploring every contour with passionate precision. The sensation of her soft touch was a fascinating contrast to the heat and intensity from before. Her body was now aligned with yours, her presence a combination of empirical domination and desire.
She leaned forward, her lips began to trace a sensitive path, kisses descending your neck to the base of your spine. The sensation of her soft lips and the light pressure of her teeth began to make your skin burn with pleasure. With each touch, with each kiss, you felt completely surrendered to her.
Joy's hands explored your chest and abdomen, her touches alternating between gentleness and firmness. She began to kiss and lick the lobe of your ear, the hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "You're so delicious," she murmured, her voice vibrating with a soft authority that left you incapable of any action.
Her kisses descended your neck, the sensation of her soft lips and agile tongue increasing your desire. She found a specific spot, just above your collarbone, where the skin was more sensitive. Her teeth sank into your skin with predatory precision, and the sharp pain was immediate, a shock that made your body tense.
"Jo- Joy?! What is this?!"
But then, like a tide of pleasure, the pain was quickly replaced by an overwhelming sensation that made you gasp aloud. It was as if all the nerve endings in your body were on fire, the pleasure growing every second.
While she drank your blood, sucking with painful intensity, Joy's hand went down to hold your penis again. Her firm and enveloping fingers began to move, slow and deliberate, a rhythm that drove you to the brink of madness.
"You like this, don't you?" she whispered against your skin, her voice carrying a dark authority. "Tell me, tell me how much you like it."
"Yes... yes, I like it," you moaned, your body trembling with the intertwining of pain and pleasure. Every drop of blood she drank seemed to slowly numb your body, an unknown sedative, making you more vulnerable and submissive.
The contact of her mouth was both burning and icy, a contrasting sensation that made your body arch involuntarily. Her lips slowly slid over the exposed skin, the heat of her breath mixing with the icy sensation of her teeth, sinking her fangs even deeper into your neck.
Joy sucked the blood with an animalistic intensity, her tongue sliding over the wound with evident pleasure. The sensation of her kiss on the broken skin and the warm flow of blood being sucked created a combination of almost irrational pain and pleasure, which you slowly felt weaken you, but you couldn't avoid the will to continue trapped in this sensation, begging her to continue, lost in erratic breathing, as if she was consuming not only your blood but also your essence.
When Joy finally pulled away, her expression was one of genuine satisfaction, her eyes shining with insatiable desire. The blood still stained her lips and the edge of her teeth, and that was when you saw her canines larger than before, almost like a predator's fangs, your mind terribly slowed to protest; there was no time, she leaned over you, her breath laden with the metallic taste of blood.
"You need to know how good your taste is, darling."
Her lips met yours, and the kiss that followed was a mix of burning and intoxicating, numbed by the slow handjob Joy was giving you. The taste of the blood, warm and salty, mingled with the neutral and wet touch of your saliva. Every movement of her mouth seemed like a new flavor.
Her lips found yours, and the kiss that followed was a fiery and intoxicating blend, numbed by the slow handjob Joy was giving you. The taste of blood, warm and salty, mingled with the neutral, moist touch of your saliva. Each movement of your mouth seemed like a new flavor.
As Joy's lips moved against yours, the metallic and penetrating taste of blood made your mind spin, awakening a grotesque feeling, a connection you mentally avoided becoming vital. But it was too late. The kiss was a mix of pleasure and dominance, each exchange of taste and sensation deepening your need for her. Joy explored every part of your mouth with delight, absorbing every nuance of the taste with a hunger long waiting to be satisfied.
While Joy continued to masturbate you, you felt your climax approaching like an inevitable storm. Every movement of her hand seemed sculpted to extract maximum pleasure, your whole body trembling in anticipation of what was coming. "Cum for me, good boy," she ordered. Her voice had a commanding tone, each word dripping with irresistible seduction. "You are mine, understand? My good boy." Her words echoed in your mind, fueling the desire and submission that were overtaking you.
"You’re going to make me cum, Joy... Fuck, keep going, I’m almost there!"
"Be a good boy and cum for me, okay? Make me happy and cum."
She wasn't just stroking up and down your cock but started making circular movements around the head, each rotation an explosion of intense sensations that made you gasp and tremble. Her skillful fingers caressed the frenulum with light, almost torturous touches, while her thumb drew slow, deliberate circles, spreading the pre-cum with an experienced touch.
You felt the pleasure growing inexorably, the pressure increasing with each turn, each caress. She knew exactly how to take you to the brink of the abyss and keep you there, on the edge of extremes. Her eyes never left yours, a predatory gaze that held you captive, completely submissive to her control, excited just by watching your reaction.
"You’re my good boy, aren't you?" she asked, her voice smooth and seductive.
"Yes, Joy," you gasped, each word an effort against the sea of pleasure. "I’m your good boy. I’m all yours."
"Then cum for me," she ordered, her fingers speeding up the circular movements, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "I want to feel you explode in my hand. Show me how much you adore me."
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming!”
Finally, with a moan of uncontrollable pleasure, you came violently, your whole body shaking as you spilled your cum into her hand.
“You cum so much for me, didn’t you? Such a good boy,” she reflected for a second, seeming to have a kind of epiphany, her eyes fixed on you as she brought her hand to her mouth, making sure you saw her licking every drop of your cum with lust and delight. "Wow... I didn't know it was so delicious," she murmured, her tongue snaking around her fingers, cleaning every trace of your cum. "Did you know this is the first time I’ve tasted human semen? I just... felt like I had to do it. And you did so well, my sweet." Her look was that of a true predator, but there was also a deep satisfaction there, as if you had fulfilled exactly what she wanted.
And Joy didn't stop there. With the same predatory hunger, she leaned over you, her tongue sliding along your neck, licking the blood still dripping from the bite. Each lick was slow, each drop of blood and sweat being savored like forbidden nectar.
"The taste of your blood mixed with your cum is perfect. Simply perfect. How did I never know this before? When Seulgi finds out, she’ll want to use you until you pass out," she whispered, her voice a mix of pleasure and amusement. Your head was too fuzzy to make sense of her words. "You’re a good boy, so obedient. How do you feel now?"
“Me? Hmm, kind of dizzy, to be honest,”
“Naturally. But I have something that can help you.”
Joy got up from the bed, her silk nightgown falling smoothly over her body as she walked towards the table in the corner of the room. She picked up a small bottle and a silver spoon. Returning to the bed, she removed the bottle's cap and poured a measured amount of a thick, dark liquid into the spoon.
“What is this?” you asked, the pungent smell hitting your nostrils like a punch, making your stomach churn.
“It’s an elixir developed by my sister. It will accelerate your hematopoiesis remarkably. Now, open your mouth.”
Her voice was firm, a mix of command and seduction. Without thinking much, you obeyed, hesitantly opening your mouth. The bitter taste of the liquid slid down your throat, corroding every inch it touched.
“Ugh! What a horrible thing.”
“But it will make you feel better. Two more spoonfuls tomorrow and you’ll be ready to be consumed again.”
Her words were said with clinical calm, and you still couldn’t discern if what she was saying was really a good thing.
“Consumed?” you asked, your mind spinning, trying to process what she had said.
“We have a few things to discuss,” Joy announced, her eyes fixed on yours as if she could see through your poor soul. “I’ll prepare a quick bath for us in a tub, then your mind will clear a bit.”
She got up again, moving with feline grace. When she reached the door, a question escaped your lips before you could contain yourself.
“Joy?”
She turned slowly, a look of slight apathy as she adjusted the straps of her nightgown.
“Yes, dear?”
“Are you... are you some kind of monster?” The words came out trembling, and you tried to catch your breath, fighting the growing sensation of fainting.
Joy's eyes narrowed for a moment before she let out a soft, almost maternal laugh. She approached again, the candlelight reflecting in her dark eyes.
“That’s no way to address a lady. I see you still have much to learn, sweetie.” She caressed your face with her fingertips, a cold touch but still very good. “I’ll try to educate you a bit while you’re here. And the first lesson is this: never call a vampire a monster.”
Her smile was now a mixture of amusement and hidden threat. Her hand slowly descended, a light touch that seemed to burn the skin. She leaned in, her lips close to your ear.
“Now, let me start preparing our bath, dear. It will be relaxing, I promise. And who knows, by the end, you might see things my way.”
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Sitting in the dining room, you slowly chewed on a piece of bread that, despite being well-baked, had the texture of something made several geological ages ago. Beside you, a cup of lukewarm tea waited patiently, exuding an aroma so faint you could almost swear someone had merely waved a tea leaf over the hot water without bothering to actually place it inside. The color of the liquid, almost transparent, seemed to reflect your growing distrust.
Joy, seated on the other side of the table, cast playful glances in your direction. Her eyes, shining with a mixture of malice and satisfaction, seemed to find particular pleasure in your obvious discomfort. Every time your eyes met, you felt a warmth rise to your face, as if your blood was determined to manifest itself in a deep and disconcerting blush.
"How’s breakfast, dear?" Joy asked, her voice laden with veiled sarcasm.
"It's... different," you replied, trying to sound diplomatic, but the note of displeasure was unmistakable.
Joy laughed softly, her eyes never leaving yours. This morning, she wore another extravagant dress, similar to the previous one, although a bit more restrained.
"Don’t worry, I’ll arrange for decent meals from now on. After all, you need to regain your energy," she said, an insinuating smile forming on her lips. "You’re going to need it."
Before you could respond, the dining room door burst open, and Seulgi entered, her face bearing an anger that should not have been possible so early in the morning. Her dress was shorter and more practical than yesterday’s, with a corset, adjusted and reinforced with a bodice. Her polished black boots, adorned with buckles and studs, reached halfway up her shins. She moved to the table with the grace of a sulking child, her eyes fixed on Joy.
"You didn’t have permission to drink his blood," Seulgi growled, her voice low and threatening.
Joy merely shrugged, a gesture that seemed both casual and provocative.
"Oh, dear sister, you know how I am. I can’t resist a good opportunity. And, if I recall, yesterday you criticized my way of handling things. Well, now I have our little lamb in the palm of my hand."
Seulgi pressed her lips together, trying to maintain her composure.
"He was mine," she said, each word loaded with frustration. "You had no right."
You felt the atmosphere in the room change drastically. Trying to ease the tension, you lifted the cup of tea and took a sip, only to discover the drink was practically tasteless. You swallowed with difficulty, nervously glancing between the two sisters and thinking it might be better to leave.
"He’s still here, isn’t he?" Joy said, her voice a silken thread laced with poison. "It wasn’t that bad. I only drank enough to satiate myself, and he’s already taking the elixir... Besides, he seemed to like it." She cast a seductive glance in your direction, making your heart race again.
Seulgi narrowed her eyes, her hands clenched at her sides.
"It doesn’t matter. Agreements are agreements."
"Come on, Seulgi," Joy said, now openly mocking. "Relax a little. We have all the time in the world, and there’s plenty of blood for both of us, blood that’s not going anywhere."
Seulgi’s anger seemed to grow by the second, but she said nothing more. Instead, she cast a cold glance in your direction, as if you bore some blame for what had happened. You shrank a little, wishing to be anywhere else.
Joy stood and walked slowly over to Seulgi, her movements calculated and filled with unshakable confidence.
"Listen, my sister," she murmured, leaning in to whisper something in Seulgi’s ear, out of your hearing range.
Seulgi remained rigid for a moment, then relaxed slightly, though the anger in her eyes hadn’t diminished.
"We’ll talk about this later," she said, before abruptly turning and leaving the room, her presence as intense as her entrance had been.
Joy returned to her seat, smiling as if nothing had happened.
"Now, where were we?" she asked.
You just shook your head, feeling like a puppet in a game whose rules you still didn’t fully understand, and it was becoming obvious that both of them wanted you to stay that way.
Minutes later, as you were finishing your breakfast (the donuts you hadn’t eaten at dinner were your salvation), the door opened again and Seulgi returned, her face still carrying a shadow of irritation. She was compulsively drinking that red beverage you discovered was not cheap wine but rather distilled animal blood made consumable. She looked you up and down, as if evaluating every inch of your existence with much judgment.
"So, I hear you’re planning to stay here for a while," she said, her voice cold.
You nodded, trying not to seem nervous.
‘Yes, I... found the place interesting. And... well, I’m slightly seduced by Joy,’ you thought, but said:
"I want to learn more about the castle; this place is different from anything I’ve ever visited."
Seulgi widened her eyes, surprised.
"You’re willingly staying here? After everything that’s happened?"
"Yes," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "The oddities... they fascinate me. I want to see and learn more about strange things."
Seulgi scoffed, incredulous.
"You’re an idiot, you know?" she said, shaking her head. "You have no idea what you’re getting into. It’s dangerous here. You’ll end up dead in less than a week."
"I know the risks," you said, trying to stay calm. "But I... I’m curious. And besides, Joy told me I’d be safe here."
Seulgi cast a look of disdain at Joy.
"Of course, she’d say exactly that. You’re falling right into her game."
Joy just smiled, that enigmatic smile as always.
"Oh, Seulgi, don’t be so harsh. He’s our guest. We should make him feel welcome, not scare him away. What’s gotten into you today?"
Seulgi crossed her arms.
"You really think he’s going to last? That he’ll survive all this?"
Joy shrugged again.
"Only time will tell. But until then, let’s enjoy his company, shall we?" She cast another seductive glance in your direction, making your heart race once more.
Seulgi sighed, resigned.
"Fine. It’s not like I care if you die anyway… I’m just surprised to be facing the dumbest man in the world. What an illustrious figure."
"I just want to know more, see more. And maybe understand more about vampires."
Seulgi looked at you fixedly for a long moment before finally giving a slight nod.
"But don’t expect me to answer your questions like some fucking teacher. You’re in Joy’s hands."
You hesitated for a moment, curiosity burning inside you.
"I... I saw your laboratory, Seulgi. Could I visit it?"
Seulgi took a step forward, her eyes burning with fierce intensity.
"No," she said, the word snapping like a whip. "No one, besides me and Joy, enters there. It’s highly confidential. And I don’t want your curious fingers messing with my creations. Disobey me and I’ll make you drink aqua regia!"
You recoiled, surprised by the vehemence of her response.
"Understood," you murmured, trying to hide the disappointment. “No laboratory. Okay, no problem.”
"The last thing we need is an intruder in my lab."
You tried to change the subject, your mind still reeling with all the new information.
"And the talking crow? Is it common here?"
The two sisters exchanged glances, a shadow of concern passing over their faces. Joy was the first to speak, but her voice was less confident than before.
"With so many cool things around here, why wonder about some random crow? It’s almost offensive to us, dear."
Seulgi nodded, but you could see the tension in her eyes.
"Yes, just a bird. Forget it."
Before leaving again, Seulgi stopped at the door and looked at Joy.
"We need to talk later about the sphere. And about that other matter."
Joy just nodded, her smile disappearing for a moment.
"Of course, sister. We’ll talk."
You raised your hand, as if asking a teacher for permission to ask a question.
"What is it, dear?
"I just wanted to know, if it’s not too much trouble, if later I could get some coffee.”
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At the top of a hill, under a sky that resembled a long gray veil, Joy and Seulgi stood side by side, watching the vast horizon. Dense clouds, charged with electricity, were forming, promising an imminent storm. The wind blew strongly, making the sisters' hair fly around their beautiful pale faces.
Seulgi narrowed her eyes, focusing on a particularly dark and dense cloud. "Maybe I can energize the crystal with a lightning bolt," she said, her voice thoughtful and full of calm certainty. "That will keep the castle running for a few weeks. But it's just a possibility."
Joy nodded, her eyes shimmering with concern as she looked at her older sister. "Yes, but we have few options. The sphere is failing, and we need a temporary solution until we can fix it properly. This storm will be the best opportunity we’ll have."
Seulgi sighed, her fists clenching at her sides.
"And what about the crow? It shouldn’t have been able to get so close to the castle."
Joy shook her head, frustration evident in her eyes.
"It was a slip-up. The gargoyle caught it in time, so I believe that damned society still hasn't found us.
Seulgi was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the stormy horizon. "Even so," she murmured, "the bigger problem isn’t that. Strengthen the gargoyle patrol around the castle. There might be more crows nearby, and we can’t allow more messages to be sent, just as we can’t allow any information about the castle to be leaked."
"I’ve already done that," Joy responded, her voice firm. "The gargoyles are on high alert."
Seulgi nodded slowly, but the worry didn’t leave her face. "As long as the sphere isn’t working properly, the castle's location is at risk. If that idiot managed to find it, then anyone else can,” she said with a long sigh before concluding, “Truth be told, it was a terrible time for him to show up. Before, I was excited to have a good food source, but now he seems more like a bad omen."
"This isn’t the time for pessimism," Joy said, her voice almost inaudible against the rising wind. "We need to think logically at this moment and consider all possibilities. Look, if they know there’s someone in the castle, their efforts will double. If rumors start that some tourist disappeared in the area... things could get complicated."
"Let's make him contact his family and friends to tell them he's fine, and of course, he's certainly not trapped in two vampires' castles," Seulgi suggested. "By the way, how much do you think he heard from the crow?"
"Enough to get curious," Joy showed Seulgi a black feather. "This was in his pants pocket." Seulgi observed the feather for a few moments before Joy let it go, allowing it to be carried away by the breeze. "We’ll keep him entertained here; soon he’ll forget this story."
The two sisters remained silent for a moment, the tension between them as charged as the electricity in the air. As the wind howled around them, bringing the promise of a storm, they knew another one was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the first slip.
Seulgi finally broke the silence, her voice low and somber.
"Let's go. We have much to do and little time to do it."
Joy nodded, and the two sisters began to descend the hill. But before they got far, Seulgi stopped, looking at Joy with a grave expression.
"I want to warn you that I might go to the city," she said, the hesitation clear in her voice. "I need to see if there’s any suspicious activity there, like maybe a member of the society lurking around for clues. There may be few members today, but they’re still dangerous."
Joy frowned, worried.
"It's risky, Seulgi. If someone recogni-"
"I know," Seulgi interrupted, her voice firm. "But it’s a risk we need to take. We need information. And if there are hunters in the city, we need to know as soon as possible. Oh, and of course, we need to stock up on food for the lamb. Stealing little by little from people’s homes will only bring unnecessary alarm to the area."
"If you go, be careful," Joy said, her voice softening. "And come back quickly. We can't afford to waste time."
Seulgi nodded, and the two sisters started to descend the hill together, their small silhouettes disappearing into the vast horizon, in contrast with the imposing figure of the castle, as thunder echoed in the sky above.
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thatcleaningcrew · 9 months ago
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Elevate Your Space with That Cleaning Crew: Enhance Furnishings in Castle Hill
Are you tired of walking into your home or office and feeling underwhelmed by the appearance of your furnishings? It's time to breathe new life into your space with the help of That Cleaning Crew. Serving Castle Hill and surrounding areas, That Cleaning Crew is your go-to solution for enhancing the look and enhance furnishings Castle Hills.
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ourhomealien · 11 months ago
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Ilfracombe North Devon
Another long post, describing a place in England.
This was a challenge I set myself because I have a hard time imagining places when they are described in written works, so I thought if I reversed that and write a description of a place I can see maybe it would help. Tbh I feel like a caveman equivalent wrote this, lol.
It looked like a castle, maybe even like Mallory towers. It sat high up on a sloped bend of road overlooking the sea. -Towering over the rest of the houses flowing and going down the road to the right of its front doors.-
- at the bottom of a road past some traffic lights sat a small supermarket and four roads, some going up little hills and others going to the sea, one of these roads leads up and around a small slope, at the top is a walk overlooking the beautiful coast, but more importantly sat on the bend is a mansion; half of its roofs look like turrets while the other half look more like the tops of cottages. Balconies hug its frame. Light coloured Cobblestone make up the majority of it build, bricks only framing the windows and sides and making up the little tower tops.-
- you pull up to an automatic gate, to the side set in the cobblestone wall is a small keypad. You know the passcode off by heart. The gate slides open, when inside the car park you move your car to its usual spot and park it. The carpark is three rectangles sat in an almost L shape, surrounded by light bricks. Standing there you find your keys and walk to the back door, the front door doesn't open from the outside but it's fine because the back door is the only one that connects to the carpark. Once inside the lobby, white walls and pale brown carpet, its smells clean, of nothing, you smile. There's a clear plastic desk pushed against a big wall, the one that connects the back door to the front double doors all made of glass. The front doors are framed by two floor to ceiling windows one on each side. Standing in the middle of the lobby you spin around, it's good to be back. You face away from the desk, the doors on either side of you letting in natural light, in front of you are two options, the two flights of seven steps or the really slow lift. The lobby is a big room with a tall ceiling.
The stairs start as the wide corridor begins hugging the left wall. Underneath the second flight, the corridor begins to bend, the lovely white wall bending with it, stopping at a new-looking wooden door that has a small window, and automatic hinges to stop sound and keep children safe, a fire door you think. You can't see it from here though. Deciding to take to stairs you run and jump two at a time stopping at the second level, technically third because of the basement apartments, again you find a door with a window and a small pale brown carpeted room, a bend and two more flights of seven steps. You open the door and go through, to your left down two wrist-shoulder lengths is the lift, down the hall are three doors, one directly to your right opposite the lift, four, one at the mouth of the lifts corridor, five, and one all the way at the end opposite you, six, your cute little, big, apartment. Stood there outside your door, you push the little white button that's at the side of all these homes, sit there on the white walls and hear a bell chime from within, you know it would make whoever was in the guest bedroom jump, it's loudest in there. Inside you find yourself in a little square of space at the bottom of five steps, two pairs of crocs make a neat line against the white wall. The steps continue into a cozy gallery, at the top of the steps on the right is mirror and two doors, a cupboard; there's a small left curve and then a bathroom; a third door this time on the left wall further down has washing machine and a water tank, the boiler room; straight after is another small curve this one going right. When you get there you stand for a moment to look in the second mirror, it's hung on the wall at the start of the second small gallery, opposite it is the door to the kitchen and living room area. You spin around looking at the paintings hanging on the walls, to your left is the master bedroom and on suite bathroom. Further down on the right is the guest bedroom. It's so Toasty in the boiler room so you take your shoes off in there, it keeps them warm.
Things I want to add:
The Living room and kitchen.
The guest bedroom.
The master bedroom and on suite.
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professionalcleaningcompany · 11 months ago
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The Secret to Odour-Free Homes: Science-Backed Tips That Work
A home that smells fresh and inviting isn’t just a pleasure for visitors; it's a sanctuary for those who live there. Unpleasant odours can permeate spaces, affecting mood and comfort. Fortunately, there’s a science to banishing these odours and maintaining an inviting ambience. From understanding the root causes to implementing effective strategies, here are science-backed tips to keep your home odour-free and enjoyable for all.
1. Identify the Source
   Before tackling odours, it’s crucial to identify their sources. Lingering smells might be due to various reasons: pet odours, cooking, mustiness, or even hidden mould. Pinpointing the source allows for targeted and effective odour elimination.
2. Ventilation Is Key
   Proper ventilation is fundamental in combating odours. Opening windows allows fresh air to circulate, carrying away stale odours and replacing them with clean, outdoor air. Installing exhaust fans in kitchens and bathrooms aids in removing cooking smells and moisture, preventing mould growth and musty odours.
3. Deep Clean Carpets and Upholstery
   Carpets and upholstery can trap odours, especially in high-traffic areas. Regularly vacuuming and steam-cleaning these surfaces eliminate trapped odours and refresh the space. Professional cleaning services, like those available in Castle Hill, offer comprehensive solutions to ensure a thorough and effective clean.
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4. Neutralise with Baking Soda
   Baking soda isn’t just a baking essential; it’s a natural odour neutralisers. Sprinkle it on carpets, upholstery, and even inside shoes to absorb and neutralise unpleasant odours. Let it sit for a while before vacuuming or wiping away.
5. Harness the Power of Charcoal
   Activated charcoal is a powerhouse when it comes to absorbing odours. Place charcoal sachets in closets, cabinets, or areas prone to mustiness. Its porous nature traps odorous molecules, effectively eliminating them from the air.
6. Use Natural Deodorisers
   Essential oils, such as lavender, eucalyptus, or citrus, not only offer pleasing scents but also possess natural antibacterial properties. Mix them with water in a spray bottle for a refreshing and odour-fighting air freshener. Alternatively, simmering a pot of water with aromatic spices like cinnamon and cloves can infuse your home with a delightful fragrance.
7. Regular Maintenance is Key
   Consistency is crucial in preventing odours from lingering. Establishing a routine that includes regular cleaning of trash bins, pet areas, and refrigerator maintenance ensures that odours don’t get the chance to build up.
By implementing these science-backed strategies, you can create an environment that is consistently fresh and free from unwelcome odours. Incorporating these tips not only enhances the ambience of your home but also contributes to a healthier and more pleasant living space.
For those seeking comprehensive solutions, professional cleaning services Castle Hill offer expertise in tackling persistent odours. These services provide tailored approaches, employing advanced techniques and equipment to ensure that your home remains a haven of freshness.
In summary, understanding the science behind odours empowers homeowners to take effective measures to maintain a fragrant and inviting living space. By implementing these proven tips and considering expert cleaning services in Castle Hill, you can bid farewell to unwanted odors, welcoming a home that is consistently fresh and welcoming for all who enter.
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vukovich · 1 year ago
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Chapter Thirty-two
It was pissing down rain when Harry tried to Apparate to the Manor grounds.  Tried, and tried, and tried again, each time landing outside the valley, at the base of the hills.  He felt like a bug skimming over a car windshield to land in the ditch.
On his final attempt, he did land in a ditch.
He’d gone home and changed into proper clothes for a date: Levi’s, a clean, white button-down, and tan Oxfords.  Currently, his jeans were soaked to the knee, his shirt and undershirt were wet all the way though, and his shoes were more leather than mud, and he had the sneaking suspicion he should have updated his wardrobe since 2001.
He climbed out of the ditch, fistful of grass by fistful of grass, and onto a flat rock that overlooked the valley below.  His arse had been the only dry part of him until he sat on the wet rock.
He was cold, and sopping wet, and about ready to tell Malfoy off via Patronus.  And he was hungry.
Why would Malfoy ask him to come over, then bar his entry?  Did he change his mind?  Or think Harry wasn’t coming?  Or was this some kind of game?  
Maybe he was doing something wrong.  Maybe it was the method of entry.
Of course it was.  That was why Robards had a whole drawer of Portkeys that went to the kennels, and why Hermione had sent a Patronus from the Manor’s front door.
Malfoy would be an idiot to let just anyone Apparate onto the grounds, and especially at night.
He thought of the Manor’s front doors, wadded up his magic in his gut, and let it twist him there.  A dark, wooden door, bound in brass, met him.  There were other, wider doors, but this one had the most wear on the stone steps in front of it.  It felt like a medieval castle’s side entrance.
And there was a Domino’s pizza box on the top step.  And a two-litre bottle of Coke.  The wind was stronger on the wide, sweeping steps, where he was exposed to the storm.
He knocked, then picked up the pizza and Coke.  It was strangely juvenile food for Malfoy, but it was still warm.
Sending a Patronus would probably have been a better doorbell than knocking, but now his hands were full, and his wand was in his pocket.
He tapped the side of his shoe against the gold kickplate of the door.  The Oxford made a better tapping sound than his work boots would have. Most of the mud had fallen off when he Apparated.
There were no windows in the door, but no light shone from behind it.  None of the windows in the front of the Manor were lit.
The door handle was a lever, and plenty easy to turn with an elbow.  Harry sidled through, pizza on his hip.  Luckily, there was a receiving table in the small, wood paneled room.  It felt like the coat room of an old, posh Italian restaurant.  Thick, green carpet and low, golden light.  The lamp on the table was blown glass.
He set the box and bottle on the table, but then wondered if he shouldn’t take them to the kitchen.  Assuming he could find the kitchen.
Maybe Malfoy was in the kennels kitchen again.  The thought made him stop and suck his tongue.  Was Malfoy waiting for him in the kennels?
He hadn’t said where to come, or what time.  Harry’d made his best guess on both, but now he was late for a date without a start time, and not certain where to go.
The parquet floor of the main hall flashed with vibrant lights.  Lightning through the stained glass windows.
When the flickering died down, the only light came from the wall lamps in an upper hallway.  The hall that led to Malfoy’s bedroom.
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24K9
A daily(?) kinktober 2023 fic. Will post to AO3 on American Thanksgiving, 2023.
Harry is a K9 unit Auror. Draco is the Ministry Kennelmaster. How could that possibly lead to anything?
Tags: collaring, top Draco, sensual pet play, touch starved Harry, bathing, shaving, rescue dog feels, other tags TBA, maybe dark draco ending?, maybe werewolves?, definitely coming untouched though, just blasting rope man
--
Chapter One
“I assure you, Auror Potter,” drawled the Patronus, speaking even before it found its full form, “there is nothing wrong with your partner.”
Malfoy’s tone was patronising, as though he were telling Harry that the monsters under his bed weren’t real, and to go back to sleep.
Next to Harry’s desk, his ‘partner’ had managed to catch his tail and was currently gnawing on it with nothing short of ardour.  K9 Auror Wurst, aka RottWurst, clamped down on his fluffy tail so hard, Harry swore he heard a crunch.
The bright fog condensed into a direwolf the size of a modest pony.  It was the perfect symbol for Draco Malfoy.  A pale, leggy, sharp-toothed relic of another time.
“And I assure you,” Harry spat, “Kennelmaster Malfoy, that this mutt’s fucking touched in the head.”
The mutt in question was eighty-plus pounds of Rottweiler-poodle abomination.  He looked like a St Bernard had dug into an avalanche, missed the humans, and hit a thousand-volt power line instead.  The curly white fur on his belly was caked with mud, and his brown muzzle still had bits of grass clippings on it.  The rest of him was black, save his brown eyebrows and speckled ears.
“He keeps alerting to sex magic, not dark magic.  It’s fucking embarrassing.  Dragged me across Hyde Park.  I had to use a Confundus on him to get him back to the office.”
The direwolf was so still that Harry blinked twice to make sure the shape wasn’t burned into his retinas.  It was a bloody showboat of a Patronus.
It was so bright that it brought out the dinginess of Harry’s office.  The yellow carpet had a pale brown trail between the door and Harry’s desk chair.  The corners of the ceiling had cobwebs, and the baseboards held an unhealthy amount of dust.
The fresh dog piss on the floor didn’t help things.
“I mean, he’s not worthless,” Harry added.  “But Robards said he can’t reassign him to Vice.  That he doesn’t have that authority.  So it must be you who has to do it.”
It was a little risky to bypass Robards the way he had, contacting Malfoy directly.  He probably should have made an appointment with his assistant or something.
But he’d been angry, so he’d pulled an interdepartmental priority Howler out of his desk and sent it.
There was probably a DMLE protocol for contacting a member of the Wizengamot.  There was a DMLE protocol for everything but wiping his arse.  Actually, they probably had one for that, too.
Harry blinked again.  His eyes were dry.  He was on hour seven of a twelve-hour shift.  After this, he’d get another coffee.
The direwolf shifted its weight, then leaned back, hindquarters high, in a deep stretch.  Its paws spread out in front of it.
Harry wondered if Malfoy was actually stretching.  And what that might look like.
It’d been years since he’d seen Malfoy in person.  Just in the papers, and only in the background of Wizengamot photos.  He’d been called to his Wizengamot seat the day after his thirtieth birthday, having met the minimum age.  They hadn’t called Hermione to hers until she was thirty-two.  She’d die mad about that.
The direwolf laid down, then yawned.
Harry yawned.
Wurst yawned.  Then farted.
Harry thought to check the time.  2:30 AM, according to his wristwatch.  He’d been on the clock for fourteen hours.  Not seven.
“Shit,” Harry said.
He’d woken a member of the Wizengamot at 2:30 AM.  And an important one.  
The direwolf sighed and tucked its muzzle under its paw.  Harry held his breath.  Maybe Malfoy would fall asleep.
Maybe he’d doze off, and he’d think he dreamt he got a Howler in the middle of the night from a burnout beat cop at least six rungs below him.  Maybe.
The direwolf sighed again, then drifted away like will-o'-the-wisps on the wind.
Maybe Malfoy wouldn’t report this.
Maybe.
Maybe Robards wouldn’t kill him.
He drummed his fingers on his desk.  If he did get written up, it’d be his sixth this year.  Two of them were for failing to meet dress code, but the shaving regulations were stupid, and the hygiene one was just weird.
Still.  
Wurst looked at him.  He looked at Wurst.
Nothing would happen.  His talk with Malfoy had only lasted a few seconds.  He’d think it was a dream.
It would be fine.
“It’ll be fine,” Harry told Wurst, ignoring the sweat on his palms.
Wurst’s nostrils flared, and then an ivory envelope slid under the door.  It sat on the grimy carpet for a moment, then folded itself into a swan.  With a few wingbeats, it landed on Harry’s desk and unfolded itself.
Inside was a business card.
Draco L Malfoy Wizengamot Member, Kennelmaster Warminster BA13 4SH UK
“Shit,” Harry said.
He flipped the card over.  On the back was an appointment date and time.  Tomorrow.
“Fuck.”
Robards was going to kill him.
--
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ltmcarpetcleaningsydney · 2 years ago
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The Best Upholstery Cleaning Services in Castle Hill | ltmcarpetcleaningsydney.com.au
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snbceaning · 2 years ago
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Commercial Cleaning in Sydney-End of Lease cleaning in Ryde
https://www.snbcleaning.com.au/about-us/ With materials that collect germs quickly, SNB Cleaning Services follows a thorough and high-quality cleaning method because it is crucial to preserve hygiene.You can find us at: https://www.snbcleaning.com.au/
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mastercleanersblog · 5 months ago
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High-Pressure Cleaning Services
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We pay particular attention to your home windows, eradicating building residue, fingerprints, and smudges to make them crystal clear. We know what it's like the have a development agency create a lovely addition to your property but depart without cleaning their mess - End of Builders Clean Darlinghurst. To ensure it requires us to bring more attention to the tiny details involved in a cleansing project. Another space where a skilled after-build clear service is way needed is the Kitchen & Bathroom. It is as a end result that the fixtures, faucets, plumbing works, bathtub, sink, shower & oven have just been put in & shall be coated with dust & dust. Why would you spend your really necessary time in doing a tedious & time-consuming task like cleaning an entire house?
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hometoursandotherstuff · 3 years ago
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If there’s one thing I love, it’s a house covered in ivy, but this one in Ottawa Hills, Ohio is special- it’s a 1926 French Norman farmhouse, but it looks more like a castle. Take a look at this.
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Imagine this being your front door. No way it feels like a farmhouse, this is a castle. Seriously, for the listed price of $699,900, it was a steal. It sold for $780,000 indicating that there was a bit of a bidding war, but even at that price, it was a buy. 
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The grand entrance hall is fabulous.
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Just look at these doors.
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Can you stand it? Even though it was built in ‘26, it looks positively medieval. The details are incredible. 
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Some sprucing up is needed, but I don’t see anything major. You can do so much with this room- it gets a lot of natural light and opens out to a patio.
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A room like this would make a serious library/man cave. Clean up that fireplace, ditch the drapes, get one of those red pool tables with gold fringe and you’re good to go.
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Now, this is great- they left a nice carpet and 2 pianos. Even if you don’t play, a baby grand looks fabulous with the top open. (What tacky person knotted the curtains? Away with them.)
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These doors need a little polish and they’ll be gorgeous.
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Incredible room. Can you imagine this as your master?
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View from the top of the stairs.
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Now, this area needs nothing. The white closets and flooring are perfect. I wonder if this is one of the rooms in the turret. It’s most unusual.
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I wish they would’ve shown the kitchen and at least one bath. 
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These rooms are in excellent condition. 
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Nice bedroom with a desk perfectly tucked into a nook.
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These floors are perfection.
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In addition to over 3 acres of gorgeous land, there are these outbuildings. So much potential. 
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This one is interesting. Can you imagine a country store in here?
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Romantic footbridge over your own stream.
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This is an amazing property- whoever bought it got some dream home.
https://www.facebook.com/ForTheLoveOfOldHouses/posts/3337867086479321
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kingsansa · 3 years ago
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prompt: portraits - wolfsong 💕
As much as he loathes magic, Jon believes in ghosts.
Castle Black is one of them, and it belongs to only him.
Centuries ago, the property was a charred husk perched on craggy, rolling hills of New England terrain. Blackened by a fire set by angry British soldiers during the war. Far enough from the nearest port city as to not raise suspicion, but close enough to see the boats on the horizon.
She always loved watching the boats.
Looking out the freshly dusted window at the sea, sparkling with sunlight, Jon doesn’t see any now. Like so many things from the life they shared together, the years they spent here together, that’s gone too.
“Is this how it looked before?” Olly asks.
Jon has lived through so many befores, and just as many afters.
Before she died—before she left, Castle Black was home. The white paint they used to fix it up turned it into a gleaming, white diamond winking in a field of green. The quiet that this plot of land in the New World brought them became their normal. Life in the countryside was good to them. It was full of drizzling gray mornings and lazy sunny afternoons and candlelit evenings and peace. Happiness.
Before he left, it was broken furniture. Shredded books. Whistling wind. The emptiness he felt without her following him everywhere. Grief, smothering and all consuming. A life that wasn’t worth living. Not anymore, with her gone.
Or so he thought.
“Almost.” He answers.
The humans are trying their best to make it look like before again, as he bid them to. Years ago, when the pain became too much to bear, he left it behind without a second glance. But in his absence, it’s been looked after. Taken care of. By someone who knew he’d regret leaving it all to rot one day.
The carpets and the drapings are relatively new. The wallpaper is different. The chandeliers are of course, no longer candle based. But the bones are still the same.
The staircase she’d tug him up every night.
The window seat of the library, where she’d read to him.
The countertop where she’d put her basket of freshly picked wildflowers.
Every single portrait remained, as well.
The ones she painted and the ones she hadn’t. In the same exact places. Her painting of the beach at Dragonstone, where they had so many good days, is still in the kitchen. There’s one of the boats on the water in the dying sunlight still in the library. And all of the portraits of her, of their family, still line the wall of the staircase. All have been freshly cleaned and dusted.
Jon stares at them now, Olly at his side.
“She’s beautiful.” Olly says after awhile, voice soft.
He’s looking at the portrait of them, after they first arrived. The one that had always been Jon’s favorite, because it was just the two of them. Their fresh start. And she looked so beautiful, in a gown of dark blue.
She always looked so beautiful in blue.
He wonders if she still does.
Her betrayal sits at the back of the throat like bile most of the time. But every time he’s reminded of it, it rushes to the tip of his tongue, and a feeling of rage so fierce, so potent steals his breath away.
A feeling of hurt.
But still, as angry as he is with her, he still can’t deny it. “There’s no woman in the world more beautiful.”
Olly does not reply, just continues staring at the wall. Jon knows he sees the same thing that he does. The life they had together.
The life they would have again.
“You won’t say a word of this to your sister.” He says to him. “Until I bring her back.”
Olly’s jaw tightens, at that. His gaze flickers over to another painting, one of two women. One slender, with autumn red hair. One petite and strawberry blonde, with an impish sort of face.
“She’ll find out herself, before long.” He grits out.
“And not a second earlier.” Jon commands.
For a moment, he thinks he won’t argue.
“She wouldn’t tell anyone.” Olly says under his breath, eyes pleading.
He doesn’t wanna be the one to keep this from her.
Jon squeezes his shoulder. “There’s always someone listening.”
Olly doesn’t reply. But he knows he won’t say anything all of the same.
There’s a human at the bottom of the stairs, awaiting instruction.
“When will the house be finished?” Jon asks.
“Tomorrow.” She trembles underneath his gaze, adding, “Sir.”
“He will pay you when you’re done.” He gestures to Olly. “I’ll be gone for the remainder of the week.”
Perhaps longer. She wouldn’t come with him, without a fight. Which is a shame.
All these years, he’d tried so hard to be better for her. He would have to show her that he could be so much worse.
“Where are you going?” Olly asks.
“To go get my wife.” He answers.
His brow creases in confusion. In seconds, he is at his side. By the door. “I thought you left tomorrow night.”
Thousands of years, before he even knew she’d come yo him, he’d been waiting for her. And then she left, and he thought she was lost to him.
He says, “I’ve waited long enough.”
He leaves. Olly knows better than to try to follow him.
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murdocking · 4 years ago
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𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭
c𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣; 𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝗄𝖾𝗂/𝖿𝖾𝗆! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌.
𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁. 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗂𝗄𝖺𝗐𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗌...𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇...𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁...𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖮𝖮𝖮 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗎𝗍... 𝗐𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇
Lights adorned every crevice of the wonderous palace, the land decorated with vibrant flowers covering the twisting vines on the archway to the prince’s home. Carriages and stallions littered the entrance of the stone castle, beautiful people with smiles on their faces made their way to the open doors where music played by the talented Takeda swarmed the main room. As couples whispered small compliments to each other and gossiping mothers chose appetizers for their husbands and children- the prince was being dolled up by his irritatingly clingy friends.
“please tsukki- it’s just a little more left-“ “I cannot even breathe through this disgusting paste on my face- god can these imbeciles leave this is pointless.” The prince sighed in heavy annoyance, his blonde hair being tied back (he swore he was going to grab one of Miss Yachi’s knives and cut it himself) and glasses thrown on the vanity’s hardwood. “oh be quiet- its only for a few hours not to mention you enjoy ridiculing your people Tsukishima.” Sugawara grumbled, tired of his complaints as he mixed more water in his brush to loosen its bristles; to which Tsukishima jerked his head, standing up to look down on his older companion. “don’t you forget your place.” Yamaguchi simply stares at the articulate tile below his foot, wanting nothing more than to be immersed into the joy the people displayed outside of the stuffy room he was currently in.
Ukai stands behind his companion, Takeda, while his delicate fingers hit every key on his piano perfectly- simply whispering to him about future songs the two would be playing later during the prince’s ball; Takeda would answer with a distracted tone to all the questions Ukai posed, frustrated the blonde to no end.
“you’re lucky you have an excuse not to be paying attention right now, Takeda.” “of course, that’s perfect monsieur Ukai.” “god dam- “
The moon seemed to be even brighter that night, and to Tsukishima Kei- it was as though the gods had decided to mock his name as he spent another year alone for his birthday, hands of his ‘servants’ fixing his appearance while Sugawara spoke with faux pride in the main room to introduce his prince. The room filled with harsh silence as Tsukishima’s tall stature stepped quietly down the carpeted steps with an uninterested gaze over the crowd of people he didn’t know, and didn’t wish to know. “my prince, it is my honor to begin your-“
The dark doors that had been shut close suddenly opened, the creak of its hinges holding more volume than Sugawara or Takeda could have ever wished to achieve. A battered down woman limped in, her hair was thin against her fragile face- her wrinkles holding dirt and mud, evidence of tough travel conditions. Tsukishima could barely contain his chuckle at her appearance.
“m-my prince…! Please, if you would be so kind a-as to help me, I seem to ha-“ “and you have the pure audacity to enter my home, disgustingly ruining the beauty of this ball…and not even bring me a gift…? You are a bold woman…” Tsukishima scoffed under his breath, Yamaguchi frowned at just how hurtful his best friend had become. “b-but my prince, I do bring you a gift…” she turned to her worn down and sopping satchel, pulling a beautiful rose that even Sugawara could smell from his place in the middle of the room. Its petals shimmered in the candlelight of the party- and its green stem was of such a pigment that all attending were sure not even the finest of painters could achieve such a hue.
Tsukishima breathes hard, walking closer to the elderly woman before gently taking the rose. He stares at it a moment, his hands moving on their own as he throws it behind his back with a small “oops”. the woman stared at his highness in pure disbelief, his arrogance had upset her to the highest degree.
“very well.” she stands up, and its as though she was growing in front of Tsukishima as he stared at the elderly woman morph into a beautiful woman who seemed to only be in her 20s. ‘well fuck?’ she held a strong glare at him as her ripped hood lifted off of her short brown hair, twisting into dark silver crown that never met her strands of hair. “Tsukishima Kei.” He gulped slightly, his hands grabbing onto the end of his shirt as he tried to focus on the (slightly blurry) scene before him, the lady easily moving behind him to grab the flower he had earlier discarded. “although appearances may be deceiving, all should know who you really are at heart” her delicate hand pushed harshly against his chest, her eyes never moving from his “I damn you to become what you really are” her finger snapped in front of his face and stole his coming breath instantly. “a detestable beast.”
When he opens his mouth to retort, a scream erupts instead as his bones and joints of his hands felt like they were being stretched by a torture machine, his spine felt contorted against his caving and heaving stomach. the enchantress watches in amusement, her stare towards his party held no remorse as the flick of her wrist opened the doors once more. “I will count down from 30. You have that long until you join your dearest prince.” it was something out of a manic state that made families depart without a care for each other- a child being separated from their father, and a man being lost without his love. the cooks in the far back of the palace broke the windows with a poor attempt of leaving the horror of the castle as Tsukishima’s screams of pure agony and pain changed into animalistic growls. the enchantress twirls the rose in her hand, her voice of honey contrasting the words that fell out of her mouth “if by the last petal falls, and you have truly loved someone and they have loved you back- you and everyone here will be free from my curse. However,” she cranes her neck and motions her hand downwards- closing the gates to the castle and boarding up all the glass pane windows, “if not, you will forever be a beast. And everyone here will be part of your castle- for eternity.” And with a final roar of protest and pain, Tsukishima had truly become a beast.
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“I don’t think I understand that- how could you be selling a whole loaf of bread for 3 coins yesterday and today it is 7 coins for half of a stale loaf? What sick game are you playing here, Bokuto?” You speak with annoyance, tapping your foot on the stone floor while your friend gives you a short smirk “im not playing anything besides business. That, my friend, was merely a discount. You have to pay my full price.” He retorts, giving a smile to a child as the boy hands the older one a bag of coins- setting two loaves of fresh bread onto the kid’s small hands “now I know you’re lying straight to my face, Bokuto.” You say, stuffing your hand into your dirty dress pocket, counting the silver coins in your head as you pull out 2 more before pressing them onto the wooden table. “there’s no way I’d be receiving your ‘discount’ for nearly 19 years. Just give me the bread and I’ll be on my way.” he ponders for a moment, his eyes getting lost in the crowd when he sees the black tuff of hair wandering through the middle of it. “fine, just this onc-“ “thank you Bokuto pleasure doing business with you!” You quickly snatch the fresh bread beside him instead of the one you two had previously agreed on, to which you heard his protests fade out as you stuffed the bread into your woven basket. you greet the widow by the bookstore with a wave and a quarter of poorly cut bread.
“you know, you never have to give me this my dear.” “it is alright though! Kou always lets me off the hook, so I don’t mind sharing Ms.” You say, giving a curt nod before departing- heading inside to catch the eye of Akaashi, his eyes quickly scanning your outfit and bag, seeing the bread inside. “he was looking for you again” “should I feel honored?” you scoff, and he lightly rolls his eyes as he hands you the newest supply of books. “im sorry to disappoint, Y/n- but all we have are the same old stories. Even I’m getting tired of them all” the male beside you sighs, rubbing his eyes as you coyly take the one on the top of the stack. “oh that’s just fine Akaashi, I don’t mind it. It isn’t like I have much to do anyways” “you could be making friends but I mean, that’s just my input…” “now you-“ “hey akaashi!” Bokutos face suddenly comes in, startling you as Akaashi perks up- giving his friend a wave as his shirt and pants is coated in scattered flour. “bokuto what did I say about cleaning off before coming inside…” “but…” “well! I need to be going! Thank you again Akaashi for the supply. I’ll be back later with the ones I took last week” “you know you don’t have to y/-“ he speaks as you stand up, not wanting to be in the middle of the tense atmosphere. “I don’t mind it, I’ll see you both around okay?”
And as every day, you walk through the bustling town- ignoring the stares and whispers directed at you while you flipped the page of the book you were currently reading, the characters felt more real to you than the literal people bumping into you. you kept walking, following the same dusty stones as the day before to lead up a small hill to your part of town- small chicks running beside your foot as their mother hens stood behind them. “father, I’m home.” silence, he wasn’t home yet.
“you know, in a few years- instead of you saying that it could be our child.” You jump, being caught off-guard by the taunting voice of the most annoying piece of shit you had ever met. “oikawa… I don’t know if you know this, but- you’re quite delusional monsieur!” you speak with a fake pep- his smile never faltering as he gives your free hand a kiss. “oh but imagine the sight y/n. wouldn’t you agree it would be quite exquisite?” “no.” “oh” he stops speaking for a moment before a ‘tsk’ leaves from between his lips. “you know y/n, im honestly doing you a favor by asking you to be my wife. Everyone adores me and…I suppose you- you would be comfortable with me. I mean not to mention,” he leans down a little to meet your eyes, “when your father passes, there will be no suitors for you. of course, you are stunning- but being a wife ah… you’re probably…last on the list there. You wouldn’t want to end up the new village widow, would you? living off the kindness of the townsfolk?” his harsh words slipped from his pretty lips, and you stared in disbelief- you were genuinely hurt. “well,” you cleared your throat, blinking a bit to stop any form of an emotional outburst from rising to the surface. “I would rather be a street rat stealing from whoever than being someone’s medal from his war to show off and be of use for pleasantries.” You say, begging internally you wouldn’t crack under his strong gaze. “wow, I wouldn’t peg you for the type to bite. That only makes you more hm…” he gasps. “irritating.” “you should leave oikawa.” “you know where to find me, Y/n.”
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𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘓𝘔𝘈𝘖𝘖 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 + 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬
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