Chapter Text
The sun shone bright, seeping inside through the windows and lighting up the whole place. Footsteps occasionally livened up the place; brooms sweeping accompanied the silence; and the sound of squeaking—quiet, but existing—helped the manor to sound... alive.
V wafted through the hallways, her eyes glued to her front—unblinking, focused. Her steps were quick and fast, as if she was hurrying somewhere.
She didn't know where she was going—she only knew that she had to move—and to...
Do what exactly?
Other drones walked past her, never batting an eye to anything as they focused on their task. They were too quiet, too afraid of something.
Past the empty rooms that riddled the hallway, she stumbled into the bar unexpectedly. It felt like she was drawn to it—the place.
The sound of wiping interrupted her thoughts—coming from behind the bar table itself. Ceramics squeaked under the cloth that was used to wipe them.
Cyn stood behind the table, barely standing over it. She was kneeling on a stool, absentmindedly wiping away the imaginary dirt that was on the porcelain cup.
V strode towards the bar table, her eyes glued onto the ground, unblinking—no thoughts behind them whatsoever.
“Boring, isn't it?” Cyn had suddenly spoken, her voice monotone and yet filled with a tinge of... boredom.
She looked up—towards the smaller drone—accidentally making eye contact. “Yeah,” she said, in a soft, quiet voice, then glanced away—now looking at the walls and their texture. It's been a thousand times since she's seen it.
“The walls you've seen here—it feels like they have been there for an eternity, haven't they? And yet, they never degrade; they never stain; they never peel off. You were born to look and stare at the walls—walking back and forth without a sense of purpose. They never gave you any—you were only expected to figure it out yourself.”
“Purpose?” V muttered under her breath. She paused for a long, quiet moment. “I don't... what does that have to do with anything?”
“It has to do something with you, and me, and everyone else. We are all here, right? The fact that we're all here means we have a purpose, and yet, that 'purpose' is never to be found here.”
Cyn climbed on the table, her head swaying—dangling from her loose neck as she moved and crawled over to the maid.
“It seems like you are confused. But don't worry, aren't we all?”
“You're not making sense either.”
“You're just not getting it... a hopeless, senseless fool like you could never understand it.”
Cyn's legs crossed over, and her face leveled to V's. “We have purpose, as I said before, but the longer we live, the more we understand that it doesn't exist. The illusion of purpose is given from the feeling 'work,' even as the act itself is rather... exhausting. You work to be given a sense of purpose; without it you would wither away into the feeling of uselessness. Ask yourself, have you indulged in the feeling of something you loved?”
V was only silent, her lips turning into a line. Cyn reached out to brush a lock of hair from her face.
“As we all haven't done,” she says as a matter of fact. “We don't have something to 'love' and 'cherish'; therefore, we feel nothing even as we don't 'work.'”
“W-well actually...” V interrupted, her voice confused, but she sounded like she had something to say. Something important that she held dearly. “I... actually loved being with Tessa, you, N, and J— It feels like I... actually belong here even as I'm forced. It feels like my only purpose is to be there—to be present in our family.”
Cyn blinked. She wasn't expecting that response—an honest confession. “Stop lying to yourself,” she said. “A purpose like that doesn't exist in this world—this manor. It's just another... grand delusion made by yourself to 'feel' something meaningful. In the end, it was all just a dream—a wonderful nightmare that you made to have 'purpose.' Though beings such as we are never self-sufficient—the concept of love and feelings and belonging never was given to us.”
Her fingers glided over the maid's cheek, feeling her tremble under her touch. V gulped quietly—a shudder leaving under her breath.
“Let it go—let yourself submit to the encompassing feeling of nothingness. And maybe—maybe then you'll understand me. There is no purpose, there is no meaning, there is no love, and there is no placement.”
A long, tense silence filled the air around them. V's trembling has lessened, yet her eyes showed a moment of something akin to realization. She could feel it gnawing at her, eating at her feelings without stopping. And she stopped to think that maybe it was all a lie.
She nodded quickly—frantically—and then slowly stepped back from Cyn's touch. A conflicted thought visibly passed by her eyes—then she turned and walked away without a word.
Back to the hallways, she found herself wandering once more, her feet stumbling every few steps. Her eyes were vacant—nearly glossy and exhausted. She moved and moved, almost knocking over the others and the furniture.
There was some sort of ringing in her ears—of Cyn's voice, talking and talking—incomprehensible yet touching her own soul, corrupting it and dismissing it away like some sort of garbage.
She wondered—as the sound of her own footsteps filled her audio receptors—if life for her had truly meant something and if she truly has no purpose. Purpose... purpose. It echoed endlessly in her mind. She held her breath for a while—swaying, swaying in the middle of the halls in front of everybody else. Though, however busy it may seem, she felt a sense of loneliness. A sense of emptiness, gnawing more and more—eating the insides of her heart—her soul.
The question was if she truly had one.
Her eyes glanced everywhere—not at the walls, as it inflicted a feeling of... loss. Though, as more and more time has passed, she found herself staring at them—the patterns. She felt herself sink more and more. Unconsciously, she leaned forward, gasping and trying to hold back sobs as her forehead pressed against the cold, unchanging patterns. Her knees trembled, then her 'ears' picked up the faint sound of rain tapping against the glass. Tap. Tap. Tap.
She wondered what it would feel like to feel them against her skin.
But she pushed the feeling away—the feeling of want as the girl's words came back to haunt her, whispering, screaming, and ringing in her mind at all times. It was terrifying, even as she felt 'nothing.'
‘Why?’ She thought, screaming in her mind for it to stop. It only screamed back louder than she ever could.
Her mind was encompassed with the thought of a thing such as nothing.
“I want to love!” She screamed into the ground in front of the windows, her hands holding her head as her knees buckled. She fell, sobbing and weeping. The world around her dissipated into void. “I want to feel loved—I want to feel...” Her lips quivered, never flinching as the thunder crackled in front of her face. The words suddenly vanished like mist—her mind becoming a labyrinth of its own. “No... I'm—”
“You're confused... you're breaking, aren't you?” A voice suddenly rode behind her—the same one that whispered everything to her.
V jolted upwards, and slowly, she turned around—eyes wide in surprise and a whole bunch of emotions that she couldn't name.
The light flickered, and Cyn's glowing eyes stood still in the darkness, observing her. Until the lightbulb finally gave a single flicker before running out—plunging them into the darkness.
“You've understood it... until your mind has gone insane.” Cyn took a step, her voice getting closer. “You are me, and yet we are nothing—just like the darkness that surrounds us. The screams of our own voice cry out—only for it to be muffled by the sound of rain and thunder. And we cry and scream until we can speak of nothing.”
V stood up slowly—even as her knees buckled—clutching the collar of her maid dress. She was frozen, her breath suddenly reduced into a mere gasp.
“The only way for our escape is indulgence—the joy of feeling nothing—doing nothing. There was never a purpose for you, and the answer is nothing.”
She took another step until her face was visible. She wasn't smiling; she wasn't frowning; she wasn't laughing; she wasn't... here.
“Be nothing,” she says in a monotone voice. “Don't speak. Don't move. Don't think... just be nothing, as you always are. Just. Let. Me. In.”
The little maid revealed herself from the darkness, though it was too late to run away.
Fangs sunk inside of the metal skin—a crunching sound faintly emerging amidst the pouring rain. A whimper left V's lips, though she said nothing, thought of nothing, and felt nothing. Her eyes only stared blankly at one spot as the little maid began to feast on her.
Cyn's teeth sunk in deeper, and she ripped out a metallic chunk—oil leaking out from where she bit harshly. She chewed and chewed and swallowed. Then she went in for seconds, now gnawing away at the base of the taller maid's neck. It tasted sweet and warm—like melted chocolate without the chocolatey flavor.
Her dainty hands came up to rip away V's dress—revealing the smooth surface that was hidden beneath the dress. Oiled-stained fingers came up to scratch the torso before her head dipped in—her teeth forcing themselves to push and overwhelm the metal before it gave in under the pressure. Wires and gears—small, complex structures—were revealed underneath that metallic skin, and without warning, she pushed her hand inside, uncaring if anything was damaged.
She ripped out large chunks of V's parts—as if she was ripping a dangling tooth out—and picked out the smaller ones before popping them inside of her mouth.
The sounds of squelching filled the hallways, oil staining the wooden floorboards below. Cyn's face forced itself to dig deeper into the maid's stomach—even as a large cavity stretched from her chest to her pelvis.
Squelch. Squelch... CRUNCH.
The round glasses lay cracked beside them—no longer of any use.
The next morning, Cyn dragged V's corpse around the manor, leaving a thick trail of oil everywhere she went.
She was smiling happily like a little child—with eyes innocent as puppies. Her cheeks were stained with what was left of yesterday's 'feast.'
In the corner of her eyes, she could see the others glance away in her direction—horrified, but never speaking up. Big brother, J, or Tessa never showed up as she made her way to the basement. Nobody saw her. Nobody spoke to her. Nobody called her out.
She removed the carpet and opened the latch that hid beneath it. Her body slowly descended, dragging V's body inside with her.
The latch was shut back with a slam.