Different story from The Life I Live with a brand new OC! Enjoy!920Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUX98xBpfdq
"You! Girl! Fetch me my tea." Saint Charloss leaned back in his plush chair, eating grapes held up high above his head by a servant girl. He pointed towards Beth and her eyes widened.
"Y-yes, my Lord." Lord Charloss obviously thought she wasn't moving fast enough and quipped at her again.
"Go, or I'll activate your bomb collar!" She squeaked in fright and scuttled from the room, closing the door behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to have the thick wood separating herself from the pampered World Noble.
The hallway was lavishly decorated, sporting rich purples and reds and greens. Tapestries hung along the wall, tables decked with bouquets of flowers and perfumes. Light bathed the walls from the wide, open windows. Thankfully, no one was around and she slowly made her way to the kitchen.
Occasionally, another slave or servant passed by. On these occasions, they both lowered their eyes out of habit. All that sounded between them was their retreating footsteps.
Glancing out a massive windows, the town of Sabaody sprawled out across the land below. The amusement park to the east was alive with color and moving people. Her steps slowed instinctively to appreciate the view, but a door slamming down the hall brought her out of her daze. She hurried on.
A few halls down lay the kitchen. Pushing her way through the door, she was greeted with a professional and lax kitchen staff cleaning up after the lunch rush. No one greeted her.
Pushing past several servants, she went immediately to the tea trays on the counter and began making a pot of the hot drink.
There was low chatter surrounding her, the kitchen staff gossiping about events in the palace and rumours about other staff members. Herself being a slave, she held no power or influence over anyone. Least of all did someone wish to speak with someone as lowly as her.
'Maybe I could say something? Maybe they'd listen to what I said? No, that's ridiculous. You're a slave, no one cares about you...'
She shook off these notions and finished pouring the heated water into the kettle. Placing all the cups and saucers onto the tray, and grabbing a few sweet cakes for extra measure, she once again headed through the door with her cargo. Her stomach grumbled low but she knew better than to take the food meant for the Nobles.
The trip back was slower with her cumbersome tray of tea and cakes. One of the tasks of a slaves was to be punctual and quick in the execution of their orders.
'Perhaps I shouldn't have looked out the window for so long.' She only hoped Saint Charloss wasn't in a bad mood today.
Balancing the tray in one hand, she knocked lightly on the door.
"Enter!" Charloss shouted, and she pushed it open.
"Your tea, my Lord." He'd finished his vine of grapes and tossed the leftover stem on the floor behind him. He clapped his hands together loudly.
"What took you so long? I've been so thirsty!" Beth set down the tray on the small table in front of the Noble, automatically pouring the water with the grounds into the cup and handing it to him.
"My apologies, my Lord. I shall be swifter the next time." Watching in terrified anticipation, Beth swallowed thickly when he took a sip.
'Is it too hot? Maybe not strong enough for his liking? Ah, maybe it is the wrong scent and his sense of smell will be offended...' Beth's fears were for not, for the whole thing was drained in less than a few seconds.
"More!" He demanded, thrusting the cup he held into her face. With a nod she shakily poured him a second cup.
The servant girl with the grapes, a petite brunette with a pinched, attractive face leaned over him once again.
"Would my Lord care for more grapes? They are from the gardens of Eden, the Grand Line's best producers of wine and oil." She flashed a wickedly white set of teeth in a triumphant smile. Charloss set his face in a thoughtful expression. Beth was afraid of what would happen if she should fall out of his good graces. Acting on instinct, she lifted the small plates of sweet cakes.
"M-my Lord, I've brought your favorite lemon sweet cakes from the kitchen. The cooks had just taken them out of the oven." Charloss' face brightened at the mention of his favorite pastry.
"Sweet cakes! I want them!" He greedily snatched the plate from her hands and stuffed one into his mouth. As he munched on the desert, Beth breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The servant girl retreated to the table and set the grapes down once more, shooting a deadly glare in her direction. Walking over to the adjoining bathroom, she took up a towel and brought it over.
"Perhaps when my Lord is finished with his sweet cakes he would like a relaxing bath?" Beth noticed the subtle flutter of her eyelashes with the suggestion. She also noticed the cold glance directed at her.
'If only I had that kind of charm...'
"Hmm…" Charloss continued to chew on the cakes, making disgusting noises in the process. "No, I don't want to." The girl's confidence took a hit, but she tried to recover.
"I've heard they are quite beneficial for the complexion and lowers stress levels by a-"
"I SAID NO." Charloss shouted, raising the pistol from his hip at the girl. She only had time to widen her eyes before a bullet was shot through her heart.
"Ah...argh…" Eyes rolling to the back of her head, she collapsed onto the floor in a bloody pool. Beth's entire body was on edge, staring at the dead figure of the servant. Her hands held the hem of her short servant's dress in a death grip, knuckles white with nervous pressure. Her breath seemed to be caught in the back of her throat.
Saint Charloss lowered the gun and holstered it back on his hip. He glanced at Beth seriously. "Don't tell me what I should do. You are the slave and I'm the master."
She turned her eyes as big as saucers to the Noble. "Y-yes, o-of course, my L-lord." She couldn't prevent her stutter of fear creeping into her voice.
"Good. Now clean her up. I don't want blood on my carpet. And tell my sister that I want to buy a new servant. A pretty one." He went back to enjoying his sweet cakes, seemingly unaware that Beth still hadn't moved. "Oh! I need to tell my father all about this! He'll be so proud of me!" And he scurried off to find the other World Noble, sweet cakes still in hand.
'He gave you an order, obey it! Do it or...' She glanced at the body of the girl, knowing what was in store if she didn't do as she was told.
Forcing herself out of her shock, she took hold of the girl's arms with a sickened feeling in her gut. The girl's skin was already losing it's warmth and going pale. Soon, the eyes would be glazed over like a dead animal. The dead weight was difficult to drag but somehow Beth managed to bring her over to the door. A trail of blood smeared the carpet.
'Oh God, oh God, oh God...' She pushed open the door with her shoulder and pulled the body out into the hall. The rubbish room was just down the hall, but the worst was yet to come.
It took forever in her mind to drag the servant, each pull seemingly getting harder and harder. Her arm muscles were burning and her legs were beginning to cramp, but she kept up the awkward position.
Kicking open the rubbish room's door she dragged her body one more time before collapsing in exhaustion.
'I'm sorry...I didn't know this would happen...'
She looked over in the corner where the large furnace took up most of the room. It took a moment to catch her breath, but she once again grabbed the girl's arm and brought her closer to the machine.
Lifting up the dead weight was by far the hardest part, and Beth bared her teeth in exertion, scrunching her face up. Somehow she was able to push the girl's limp body up through the opening and into the large tank below. She heard the girl slide down the sheet of metal and hit the bottom with a thud.
Gripping the handle, Beth said a little prayer for the girl. She never even knew her name. Cranking the handle, the fire within blazed to unfathomable temperatures and quickly the smell of burning flesh arose in the room.
Beth covered her nose and mouth in vain, trying to stifle the smell. Before long, the smell went away, replaced by the burning coal and accelerant that filled the incinerator.
A feeling of dread over her, Beth turned off the furnace and walked over to the supply closet with the cleaning materials. Grabbing a scrubbing brush and bucket of water, she returned to Saint Charloss' room.
The floor was smeared with blood. Some had sprayed onto the wall behind the small table. Shakily falling to her knees, she wet the brush and started scrubbing. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn't feel them.
"Why...he…" She sputtered, finally overcome by the pent up emotion that the day's events had caused. "I'm sorry…" Choking on her own sobs, she threw herself into her duties.
"Are we really going to buy a slave?" Heat asked lazily, leaning on the barrel outside the bar. Kid threw back his head, downing the rest of his drink. Tossing it into the bushes nearby, he belched loudly.
"Who knows? Maybe they'll have some attractive thing. Could make our sailing more interesting." He grinned.
"We don't need anyone else." Killer put in, sharpening his blades with a stone.
"We need a cook." Wire input, earning a punch from Heat.
"What are you trying to say, my cooking ain't good enough for you?" He narrowed his eyes but Wire didn't look surprised. In fact, he didn't seem to have an expression at all.
"You could use some more training." He said bluntly. A scuffle looked about to start but Kid stopped them with a hand.
"That's enough." They begrudgingly settled down, Heat grumbling that Wire didn't know what he was talking about. "Keep an eye out for other Supernovas. And hot women." He smirked, catching the eye of a woman walking past them. She quickened her pace, rounding the corner with wide eyes.
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