Chapter Text
Vi didn't trust smiles.
Usually, that kind of physical expression was warped by intention. It would mean pain, superiority. The next attempted backstab. Another collection of timeless days in solitary for no reason other than just existing.
Vi has learned to be wary of smiles. Of their falseness. Of the danger hidden behind them.
How lucky for her that she managed to walk into a town filled with them.
Holdrum was quaint enough. The buildings were old, but cared for; each layer of brick having been laid with love hundreds of years ago. The air smelled sweet, some sort of flower that Vi would never be able to identify, but it was nice enough to want to take deep breaths even when she didn’t have to. There were large, lavish trees and bushes everywhere. A small lake with families of ducks and frogs enjoying the refreshing water.
This town was thriving in its simplicity despite being a few hours away from bustling and progressive cities. Vi had to hitch a ride for the majority of the trip to Holdrum, bribing the driver with more cogs than she’d like considering the pathetic amount she had to her name. But she decided she could walk the rest of the trip herself. All she had to do was cross through Holdrum and take a few hour hike to her destination. She thought the hike would be the worst part.
People had never been Vi’s forte. They always said or did something that pissed her off. But the people in Holdrum were of a different breed than what she was used to. They were everywhere, in every shop, walking every street– greeting one another with familiar pleasantries and cracking jokes about the weather. And in every moment, they wore a smile.
These smiles looked wrong. They had Vi clenching her teeth, gripping the handle of her duffel bag with whitened knuckles. Vi thought life in Stillwater had scraped away anything and everything that would put her on edge, but apparently her seven years there wasn’t enough to remove all of it.
Even better was when those smiles turned toward her.
At first, each person she made eye contact with gave her a fresh grin, one that split wide showing nearly every tooth. Then, when they realized what kind of stranger they gifted such a greeting, those smiles dampened. Weakened. Showed their true feelings much more clearly. Holdrum certainly wasn’t used to an ex-con. Her tattoos, alternative hairstyle, and shabby clothes were enough for them to judge Vi in her entirety.
It was to be expected, really. Holdrum was a small town whose population consisted of the same circulation of last names ever since its founding. The people who live here were those that never left. They're born in Holdrum, they'll die in Holdrum. They band together with their own kind and look down on most outsiders, especially if they're too different from them.
Vi flipped the collar of her jacket higher, hoping to hide the tattoo on her neck just to avoid those eyes keeping track of her longer than she'd like. She just had to get through this town, one step at a time. It was too bad the townsfolk didn’t plan to make the trek easy on her.
“That’s the new groundskeeper, eh?”
“Wouldn’t know why someone like her would be here otherwise.”
The words were spoken in a faux murmur, loud enough for anyone nearby to overhear. It felt too purposeful to be pinned on obliviousness, and the subject alone made it loud and clear it was about Vi.
She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the stray wind that happened to blow a newspaper in the alley she was temporarily resting in. The ad didn’t say much: a location, a wage, and a title. Groundskeeper at the Kiramman manor. Vi didn’t know anything about the region or the house, just that the ad was recent and she didn’t have anything to lose shooting her shot. A quick phone call gave her a day and a time; the rest was up to imagination.
Little did she imagine just how interested the town of Holdrum would be with her arrival.
“How many would that make it? Three? Four?”
“Think this might be the fifth one. That Johnny kid ran within days of working there.”
Vi hunched her shoulders up while trying her damned hardest to ignore the stares and now words aimed at her.
“Oh, that poor boy. I think Miss Kiramman’s being too hard on them.”
“I don’t blame her for still being in grief. Three months isn’t enough time to heal from what happened to Lady Kiramman.”
That pulled at Vi’s ear. She slowed down her steps just enough to catch the last bit.
“I never heard what happened to Cassandra. The manor kept it all hush-hush.”
“Fell down the stairs, she did. Such a tragic end. At least it was quick.”
A death at the manor. Recent, too. That wasn’t stated anywhere in the newspaper, but maybe that was why the lady on the phone was so quick to give Vi a chance. Desperation could’ve been a part of it. People are superstitious, especially in the country.
None of that was enough to scare Vi, though. Her own desperation to live another day was stronger than any ghost story.
Vi increased the pace of her steps on the cobblestone, wanting to get out of this gossiping cesspool as fast as she could. What a pity that the hearts of the citizens didn’t match the warmth of the town. At least they took care of it well enough, from the dirt-free roads, to the clean, reflective windows clear enough to see—
Vi’s feet stopped in place, body tensing abruptly. Slowly, her eyes crept to the window’s surface.
Light blue strands.
Choppily cut edges.
Slightly rusted hair clips pinned to keep hair out of… her face.
Vi pivoted away just as sharply as the breaths cycling in her lungs. Her heart was hammering, hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to keep herself together.
Too much time in Stillwater had at least taught Vi how to keep going, so she did. One foot in front of the other. One more second to get through until it's in the past. Within minutes, her breathing eased again, and she could feel the clamminess of her skin clearing up. The remaining streets of Holdrum passed by like air.
Who needed to be afraid of ghost stories when you’re already haunted?
***
Every step away from Holdrum lifted a bit more of the weight laying on Vi’s shoulders. She walked on a dirt path nestled within an abundant forest, clearly the only place that humans wandered about this far from town. And the emptiness of the road ahead gave her relief that she wouldn’t find another townsperson.
Vi could see why people wouldn’t want to walk to the manor from the length alone, but it was a nice day out, if nothing else. The sky was dusted with clouds, the air was cool, but not too much. Nature thrived in the flora around her, chirping and cawing and croaking. Vi hadn’t felt this soothed in a long time, and she had plenty of time to enjoy it.
Her thoughts wandered back to the job ahead. The description was pretty vague. ‘Groundskeeper’ usually meant keeping the outside nice and good looking. Vi could do that. Hard work was something she quickly became accommodated with after her release from prison. Odd jobs were the only way for her to make some cogs to live off of, and she learned a bunch from the assorted tasks. The lack of stability had her bouncing around from being a courier to lawn maintenance to truck loading. One time she got lucky enough to land an apprenticeship, but that luck quickly disappeared once her boss found out about her past.
No matter how many steps Vi took, she couldn’t outrun her shadow. Every day she had to live with it stalking her from behind. She could only hope no one else looked too closely at it.
At some point, the hooded path gave way abruptly to vast plains. Without the trees, Vi’s destination was clear on the horizon. The Kiramman manor. Even from a distance, Vi could see how rich and old the dark structure was. Two stories high and multiple rooms wide. Considering that the front gate was so far away from the entrance, Vi had her work cut out for her, whatever that work might be.
The steel of the gate was cold against her hand as she gripped it, no lock to be found keeping it shut. Odd. An important and rich family didn’t even have the most basic protection to their property? Maybe the superstitions were enough to keep any weirdos away.
Then Vi pushed the gate open, and the creak that grated her ears made it clear just how ill used this gate was. Or maybe ill kept. The more she looked at the estate, the more issues and mistreatments became obvious. Saving herself from further ear damage, Vi squeezed through the small gap and made a mental note to come back and fix it later. If this all went well.
With a huff and a wipe of sweat from her brow from the lengthy walk, Vi started her trudge down the dirt path, following a distinct set of tire tracks marked in the gravel. As she walked, she took in the surrounding forests, the lake at the edge, and even the expansive garden with unkempt hedges surrounded by dead, dry grass.
However, there was something about the manor that kept drawing her eye. The closer her steps brought her, the more was revealed about the place. The bricks forming its bones were old, perhaps older than all of the buildings in Holdrum. There were vines and weeds growing all over, stretching way too high to have been maintained anytime recently. The windows were slightly foggy and dark as curtains blocked any views inside. But most of all was this… emptiness. It seeped out of the withered walls and disheveled topiary. If it weren’t for the two cars parked out front, Vi would’ve thought this place was abandoned.
The tracks she’d been following lead to an oldsmobile; cheap and seemingly one too many hand-me-downs old. The other, a much fancier ride. Sleek, stylish, with barely a scratch on her. Something Vi would never dream of ever riding in, let alone owning.
Curiosity got the better of her. A single peer through the tinted windows revealed just what Vi imagined: dark leather upholstery and that showy plastic wood coating the dashboard and doors. Vi would bet that the seats were heated, too. Based on the slight dust that settled on the seats, and the particles floating in the air, the owner probably didn’t take this beauty for a spin that often. Vi scoffed. Rich people and their need to buy things that they don’t use.
Speaking of rich, opulence was in no low supply– the front door itself being no exception. Vi walked away from the luxurious car and paused just to take in the large structure. Wooden, definitely old, and so fancy that it bore an image of two intersectioning keys with a forward and backwards “K” layered on top. It screamed “family crest”. Although, keys were an interesting adage to signify a family name. Keys were a symbol of locking away important things for no one else to find. Riches. Secrets.
In any case, Vi didn’t have the time to waste thinking about a potential employer who would more than likely kick her back out onto the curb, and the walk back wasn’t short. With a roll of her shoulder, Vi steeled her nerves and knocked on the thick door.
No one immediately answered. After a brief moment biting her lip and kicking the dust on the porch (which she’d probably be told to clean), she went to knock again. As soon as her knuckle touched the wood, it swung open to reveal a tired middle aged woman.
“May I help you?” the woman asked, and if her face didn’t reveal her annoyance, the tone of her voice sure did.
“Er, I’m uh— I’m Vi? I was the one that called you about the ad in the paper?" Vi gestured in front of her as if she could conjure said newspaper in thin air.
The woman paused, her eyes narrowing to give a long, slow look over Vi. It was obvious when her gaze stopped at Vi’s neck and face tattoo, and then the muscles hidden underneath her jacket. All Vi could do was offer what was most likely an awkward smile as she let this stranger judge and decide her future.
After enough perusal, the woman sighed. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, as she said, “Yes, yes. If it wasn’t for the timing of it all, I would be more…” she paused before shaking her head roughly. “Nevermind that. You’re here and you look like you can handle hard work.”
“I don’t know any other kind,” Vi tried to joke, but was met with a frown. The woman sighed again, then moved out of the way and waved her hand to allow Vi in.
It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but there was a clear difference as she stepped through the doorway. The air chilled against Vi’s skin. It wasn’t enough to truly bother her, but it was enough to notice.
“I’m Elora, Lady Kiramman—” Elora paused suddenly, her face contorting for only an instant before she smoothed it over and continued, “Miss Kiramman’s housekeeper. Have been for much longer than you’ve been alive. I primarily do the cleaning and cooking. As stated in the ad, we need someone to do most everything else. Yard work, handiwork; if anything’s broken or looks wrong, you’re here to fix it. Can you do that?”
Knowing this was a test, and she already seemed to be failing it from the moment her knuckles hit the front door, Vi stood up straight and nodded. “I’ve even got some background in plumbing if need be."
Though that didn’t seem to impress Elora.
She kept walking along the hall, leaving Vi to hop into step to keep up with her.
“Lady Kiramman’s wake is scheduled to happen in a month’s time. It was delayed due to preparation and… personal reasons. This house needs to be in tip-top shape before then. Do tell me now if this is too much for you.”
“Not at all!” Vi said quickly. “Although if you’re worried about time, I’m sure hiring at least another person would help.”
Elora was fast to interject, “Miss Kiramman doesn’t want anyone else here.” The sharp tone was enough for Vi to get the message: don’t ask anything about nothing. The less she gets close to the people around her, the less trouble there’d be.
Without any more comment, Elora started to lead Vi around the manor.
It was spacious, that’s for sure. Each hallway, each room, was completely absent of life. But it was clear from the sheer thought in the decorations that it’s meant to be seen by people.
None of the walls were empty. They were embellished with the Kiramman crest, oil paintings, or old candlesticks. However, the most interesting part was the occasional weaponry. From bows to crossbows and even an assortment of guns. Whether or not they were still functional wasn’t something Vi wanted to personally know.
“The Kirammans are known for their love of hunting,” Elora had said when Vi stopped to stare at a particularly well kept rifle locked in a glass case. It was completely different from the rest of the manor. Clear of scratches or scuffs. Not a single hint of dust, either.
After a good half an hour of touring, Vi was entirely lost. Each room looked the same to her if it wasn’t particularly special. Sure, there was a well maintained kitchen downstairs, a classroom, and a library on the second floor. But when Elora gestured to a guest room upstairs that Vi could take, she wasn’t very confident she’d be able to find it easily in the evening.
There were a few rooms entirely off limits, blocked by large doors with ornate handles. Vi could guess what hid behind them.
Truthfully, Vi had never been in such a big house before. Actually, she had never really been in a house before. It’s obvious that jail cells lacked the particular accommodations to even be homely, but before that, Vi was housed in small rooms, forgotten closets, empty basements and the like. And before that… Well, certainly nothing that had more bedrooms and bathrooms than the amount of current occupants multiplied by three.
It was garish, honestly. Who needed this much space? What is someone supposed to do with it all? Vi already walked the earth on her own, but living in this house by herself? She’d probably go nuts. Sure, before Lady Kiramman’s death, it might’ve been more exciting around here, but even then this was much too big a house for a small family.
Eventually, Elora led Vi back downstairs. When she ascended it earlier, Vi hovered her hand over the handrail. She didn’t think much of it before, but intuition had her watch her own steps as she climbed up. It was only when she went back down did she realize her body was hovering near the railing. Apparently Lady Kiramman died on these steps. Maybe her subconscious was being more careful because of that.
“We’re almost done with the tour,” Elora said once they both reached the bottom floor. “All that’s left is the—”
A shrill ring interrupted Elora, making Vi jump. Seemingly attuned to the annoying sound, Elora breathed out her signature sigh and ordered, “Wait here one moment,” then scurried off to the kitchen.
The ringing was sharply cut off, followed by the mutterings of Elora and whoever was on the other end. Not knowing what to do with herself, Vi awkwardly stood there, hands in her pockets, rocking on her heels. She couldn’t mess this up now, even if it did seem like Elora was going to let her stay. A whole house worth of fixes and touching-ups, all needing to be done within a month. It was weird that Miss Kiramman was okay with hiring only one person, much less someone like Vi. Even without knowing that she’s an ex-con, Elora’s judgemental stare told Vi all she needed to know about what the housekeeper truly thought of her.
But a job’s a job, even in a place so… uneasy. The manor could be less eerie with a couple more people, and a couple more lights. The rickety old chandelier swinging to and fro could use some love, too. This must’ve been a comfortable home if it housed a long line of Kirammans, noted by the large number of paintings reflecting each generation.
The one guarding the grand staircase was the most prominent: a man, a woman, and their daughter. They had to be the current - well, almost current - heads of the Kiramman house. The woman had to have been the late Cassandra Kiramman. She looked every bit as regal and stuck-up as the whispers about her. Her stern blue eyes gazed through the paint as if she were really on the other side of the canvas, watching the manor. The man wasn’t nearly as daunting or emphasized; just a painted recreation.
Then there was the daughter. Vi had to admit that she was rather adorable. The painter did a great job conveying her childlike innocence with sparkling eyes and an easy grin. That happiness reminded Vi of another young girl who gave out smiles freely and knew what happiness meant to her.
The thought stabbed sharply at her heart. A lump got lodged in her throat, and Vi abruptly looked down— back to those weird stairs.
They were just stairs. Maybe they could use a good wood shine and a couple of sealants for some chipping, but they were just a fixture of the house. Nothing special.
And yet, Vi couldn’t help but notice a churning in her gut. One she’d recognize from her days of self-preservation at Stillwater.
A warning.
“Miss Vi.”
Startled, Vi turned around quickly. Elora had returned from her call, though her expression was odd… and worrisome.
“Just ‘Vi’ is fine,” Vi assured.
“Right. Well, let us finish the tour, yes?” Elora didn’t give Vi a moment to think before she laid a hand on Vi’s back and led her away. Almost too quickly.
The tour seemed to be sped up from then as Elora rushed through her script.
“The dining room for guests is here. Be out of sight if Miss Kiramman is hosting.”
“I prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner at 6:30 am, noon, and 6:30 pm. I will not wait for you if you are late.”
“The servant’s entrance is here, where you are to enter and exit.”
“And finally we have the sitting room.”
Vi trailed behind Elora into another expansive room. It was darker, the curtains drawn and the lights dim. In fact, it was only the fireplace in the center of the room that was giving off any light. Though faint, it was at least bright enough to make noticeable the rich decor, the fancy furniture, and a large, grand piano sitting by its lonesome to the side.
But unlike everywhere else, the room wasn’t empty of inhabitants.
Standing in front of the lit fireplace was a tall, thin woman. Dark, straight hair stretched down just beyond her shoulders. She wore a simple black dress, but even in the light Vi thought it looked like her body was too narrow for it. In fact, the closer Elora guided her to this person, the more Vi saw the gauntness in her cheeks, the boniness of her limbs.
“Miss Kiramman,” Elora greeted. “This is Vi, the new groundskeeper.”
It took a second longer than expected for the woman to look up from the flames toward their direction. That was when Vi realized: this was a shadow of a person.
The gauntness was more than obvious when facing Miss Kiramman. Her cheekbones, which the family portrait told Vi were hereditary, were much more pronounced than they should’ve been. Her hair lacked life. Her posture sagging as if carrying the burdens of the world. And her eyes…
Framed by dark, angry purple underneath, what should’ve been an ocean’s blue was so dull. Void of any spark. They weren’t even looking at Vi or Elora, but instead were staring at a distance beyond them, not quite focused on anything.
Vi was stunned into silence. This woman would’ve been so beautiful had she not appeared so obviously broken.
It took another moment for Miss Kiramman to say anything, moving her lips as if practicing how to speak. Finally, she rasped, “Pleasure to meet you,” though the words came out weary and weak, as if her voice was rarely used and the words were barely of any thought.
“Likewise,” Vi managed to choke out with a nod.
Miss Kiramman reciprocated the nod, to which Elora chimed in, “I’ve just finished giving her the tour, Miss. I’ll give her the list of chores for her to start tomorrow, unless there’s anything you’d like to add?”
The only sign that Miss Kiramman had heard Elora was the way her eyes slid over to Vi, lazily– or more like tiredly. The wearisome blue gave Vi a onceover as Elora had done earlier, but there was such little light in her eyes that Vi couldn’t figure out what thoughts were held behind them.
“You don’t look like you scare easily.”
Vi stood up straight at that. An actual sign of life inside the husk. Her tone was still dull, though this time Vi heard the fancy accent on her tongue. Still, the words to come from Miss Kiramman’s mouth weren’t at all what Vi expected. “Uh… I don’t?”
“Good.”
Miss Kiramman didn’t clarify why she said that. In fact, she didn’t do anything else. Without another word, the current head of the manor slowly walked away, her quiet steps gently brushing against the floorboards.
Confused, Vi looked at Elora. The older woman was watching Miss Kiramman, her face contorted into obvious worry.
Miss Kiramman reflected the manor itself. Lifeless. It tugged at Vi’s heart, a memory pulling her through a path she never wanted to relive but always seemed to anyway.
People usually say to give all aches and pains time. People talk bullshit.
***
The manor was a completely different beast at night.
It was easy to see the extravagance and beloved history of the building during the day, even with the curtains mostly closed and the halls mostly empty. But at night, that darkness and emptiness turned into something much more… tangible.
It was colder, Vi noticed. The chill layered on her skin from earlier seeped into her pores. If she were to stand there long enough without any extra covering, she was sure she’d start to shiver. And the vacant rooms, corridors, hallways… Vi didn’t know where Miss Kiramman’s room was, but as soon as Elora left for the night right before sunset, her absence was felt tenfold. The manor was already huge with just Vi and Elora, but it felt like an abyss without her.
Part of Vi wanted to try and scope out where Miss Kiramman was, just to soothe the loneliness in her mind. Not even in prison was she alone. Solitary might have kept her from others, but Vi was still aware that there were people on the other side of that steel door.
But here, in this creaky old manor, the lack of any other living being bothered Vi more than she liked. Maybe it was because she couldn’t assign the weird noises to an explanation. The aches and groans of what could’ve been wood. The painful screeches of what might’ve been rusty metal.
Not even her new temporary room held any reprieve. As soon as the creaky door opened, Vi knew she was only going to get more of the same. It was drafty, dull. Sad. Some paint was peeling on the walls and dust settled in most of the room. But Vi could ignore all that. Despite lacking any character, the room was pretty large, sparse of much except a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. Vi zeroed in on the bed; a full sized puffy mattress all for herself. Used to rarely even getting something comfy to sleep on, this was a dream come true.
She flicked the lightswitch, hoping it would at least liven the room up a bit. Unfortunately, the bulbs in the room crackled a few times before deciding to stay on, glowing a different level of brightness every few minutes. Vi sighed. It was too bad she didn’t have an apprenticeship with an electrician.
Exhaustion wore away the rest of her energy. The guest bathroom thankfully had hot water Vi could sit under for a few minutes, scrubbing away the dirt of the day, trying to scrub away what stuck around after the dirt was cleaned away. The room was even colder when she came back to it, but fatigue won out. From the duffel bag that held all of Vi’s possessions, she took out the only set of nightwear she owned - which was just a simple white t-shirt and some loose shorts - and settled under the covers.
There was comfort in that bed, more than just the nice sheets and soft blankets. Vi hadn’t been turned away. Sure, probably every single person she passed by that day had something bad to say about her behind her back, but there was a chance here. She just couldn’t fuck it up, even with how weird everything was.
Her thoughts wandered as she laid there. The town, the manor, and the Kiramman daughter. None of it was what Vi imagined it would be. And only time would prove just how much shit she walked into.