The Tell-Tale Heart of the Old Chateau

My hatred for this woman was unrivaled. Perhaps it was the way she spoke, or perhaps it was just my own brain traveling on it’s own devices. Whenever she spoke, I would yearnfully wish to pierce my heart with the sharpest of deadly utensils, and when she smiled, I begged for my entrails to be upon the floor. And her eyes -  Oh! - those big piercing eyes of brown just begged for a bullet from a flintlock between them!

You must think I am mad! I am not, I assure you! I must implore you before I tell just how I executed this wretched woman. It was those eyes for Arceus sake! Those forsaken eyes, piercing my soul like the clueless wench she is! Ah, but I am not mad, nor insane! - Ha! - Preposterous! Let me tell of why I should be praised for ending this foul woman’s life, for I am not mad.

She held governmental authority over the nearby town. - What was it? - Ah yes, Eterna! The wretched skank abused her power to a disrespectful and corruptive level. The townsfolk requested a public forum, where they could publish their ideas on a public scale every week. That’s all! A democratic sense of the people getting their freedom to express themselves, it was. However, she wasn’t a believer in that, for she was selfish. Stop showcasing your own craftings, you daft wench! The people wanted nevermore than their request, a noble request at that, yet you insist on praising yourself in public instead as if you were Queen Eterna! At town meetings, she’d go on about herself and then showcase some of her own obnoxious artistry in paintings on display. I was not an individual to speak consistently, for I’d rather let actions speak for themselves. That and that darned set of eyes!

Her abuse of power was no trigger for any townsfolk to conquer the daunting task of rebelling. They complained, but those mere whines are only as light as paper if there is no action!

I had arrived in town a month ago, where I had begun to work for this woman in exchange for a place to stay in her home. I am a butler, I must admit, as it is a somewhat degrading role. Over just a few weeks my hatred grew for the woman. Upon setting eyes on her, I became disgusted. What only added to my hatred was when she had seemed to forgotten that I was, in fact, female, and began to use male terms when speaking to me, just a week after taking the job. Although I may digress that it was due to my tomboyish appearance and persona, no man should be breasted! I was tempted to dump poison within her breakfast as I was making it some mornings, but I decided against it, for only at my own handiwork would her death be satisfying.

Ah, yes, let me tell of thy mansion. The “Chateau” is what she called it. She sometimes called it the “Old Chateau” for it had been worn down over years of use by generations of her family. The mansion maintained many hallways across it’s maw of malice. It became eerie at night. I still do not understand why a single woman needed so many rooms at her disposal. Another knock against the wench.

Plans had formulated over time. After she went to bed, I crept up to her bedroom with a lantern in hand, a captured Volbeat powering the lantern’s gleam. The poor creature had no idea what I was up to. I creaked open the darkened wood door to her room and poked my head inside. There she slept in dreadful peace upon the bed. No - I could not do the deed now. I would not be satisfied if I did so. I have to look into those eyes in order to feel my labors truly come to fruition.

I went about the routine for seven nights, peering my head through the door’s crack with my lit lantern of luminous light. It’s luminosity, paired with the ominous darkness of her room, sent Butterfrees racing through my chest with anxiousness. On the eighth night, my plan was finally executed after a fatal error that I was lucky to acquire. I stumbled slightly when peering my head in that night, the door opening wide when I bumped into, the age of the door letting the sound of a slow, skin-crawling, creak, loud enough to awake her. As I spotted her eyes opening, my hatred set my heart aflame and boiled my flowing blood. I set the lantern on the floor, courteous enough to the Pokemon inside that I pointed it in the opposite direction of the bed, for he didn’t need to see the crime scene I was to commit. The wench’s piercing eyes opened wide and made eye contact with my own for a brief moment. I did not wish to hear her speak in the following moments, for her voice was still ill-inducing to me. I swiftly threw myself atop her, my hands gripping her throat with haste as she struggled and squirmed beneath the immense force of my hatred-fueled hand strength. I was a madwoman indeed, the way I shook her about as I clasped her throat.

 

… And with that, my deed was complete. All the breath within her vanished into thin air. I vaulted myself off of her and stepped away from the bed to observe if she was truly lifeless. The blood that had began to trickle from her nose, a symbol of my seal and of my Avatar, told me I had succeeded. I left the lantern behind with the Volbeat inside it, for I didn’t want him to see or hear what I was to do next. I grabbed the woman by her leg and pulled her behind me during my exit from the bedroom crime scene, for I was far from done with her! The blood dripping from her nose crafted a path of crimson droplets along the stairs she was dragged down upon, one for each step. She was rather light, I recall, along with cold. I do not know if it was in fact my hatred giving me strength, or in fact my unknown physical ability. I soon heaped her corpse upon the the kitchen table before going to work like a crazed butcher. Bit by bit, piece by piece, with the tick, tock, of the clock on the wall. The window at the back of the kitchen let in moonlight to backdrop my relentless butchering. My hands soon covered in blood, I had to hide the bits I had formulated.

Aha! – The floorboards were rather loose here in the kitchen. I suppose that is the most genius plan I have made so far! I found myself a crowbar, of which I kept safe in the storage beneath the kitchen sink. I noticed the sink was partially on still, with a water droplet dropping down from the faucet every few moments, in a somewhat eerie fashion. I took the crowbar and pushed one of the table’s chairs to the side. I pried open several loose boards from the spot the chair had sat to reveal the dark hole beneath, of the demolished basement the Chateau used to own. Bit by bit, I threw my cutlets inside before patching it. I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief upon finishing. I went to sleep soon afterwards, at ease for the first time in a long while.

 

As you can see, I gave this woman what she rightfully deserved! I am not insane or a madwoman whatsoever! It was my divine right, non?

The next morning I went right to cleaning the evidence of my writ of terror. The home was primarily wood, including the kitchen table, so it became slightly difficult to hide the crimson stains I had left everywhere. I did a great deal of labor since the sun rose, mopping and scrubbing as much as I can. That was the job I’d be doing anyway.

 

At around noon, the doorbell’s gentle chime rang out and echoed through the lengthy halls of the mansion. I had completed my efforts to hide the evidence, and had begun to relax in the kitchen with a charming novel paired with delicate tea. I finally did my hair long and curly as I had always wanted. There were no restrictions upon me now! I could rule this mansion as my own from now on! Upon answering the door on the first floor, I was surprised to find two policemen standing there during the torrential downpour that was outdoors.

 

“Hello, my dear officers. What bring thy to the Old Chateau?” I questioned, with a smile upon my lips. I looked like a cheerful girl in facial expression, a contrast with black mascara darkening my eyes like the sun setting.

 

The two policemen gave a smile, their blue uniforms dampened by the downpour falling down upon them. The two were both very athletic it seemed, perfect men for their line of work. The one on the right was a blonde with brown eyes, very young with his pale complexion and facial features. I assumed he was new to the job. The one on the left, a blue-eyed man, was much more attractive in my eyes. I recall the stubble he had as facial hair was the icing of the forbidden cake. The blue-eyed one spoke up, so I assumed he was of higher authority. “Sorry to disturb you, madame. A passerby heard somebody scream out in the middle of the night. We were concerned for her safety so we had to come on by. Is she here at the moment?” He asked in a deep, professional voice. Oh, how I longed for a man of the sort!

 

It astonished me how I had a response without any thought. I had not anticipated the lawmen to arrive, much less a passerby hearing my writ of error. “Oh, no, sir… I had a rather vivid nightmare last night, my screams ringing out rather loudly.” I retorted innocently, folding my hands by my waist in a polite manner, above the plain black gothic dress I had donned for the day, lengthier than normal dresses. I had longed for a dress for a great amount of time now, and this gave me the freedom to do so. “She departed last afternoon right after she came home, for she needed to visit an ill family member for a few days.” I kept my smile, although I was still rather shocked at how casual I sounded.

 

“Oh, a mere misunderstanding then, madame.” The officer gave a nod, sharing a chuckle and a grin with his coworker. “May we come inside then? At least until the rain stops.” The officer humbly requested of me, removing his hat respectfully, revealing his short light brown hair in the process. An attractive man indeed that I would label a suitor, if I hadn’t done that deed, of course.

 

“Oh, yes, of course!” I generously replied, letting the two inside the Chateau. I sat the two down at the kitchen table soon enough, gifting them each a warm mug of tea from the still-warm kettle. I sat across from the two men and went back to the compelling novel I had been reading while they uttered their gratefulness. They chattered about to one another as I read. Everything was going well.

 

...Or so I thought. A beating, perhaps ringing - A soft beating - One of persistence. I could not make out what it was exactly. My eyes darted to the clock upon the wall. No - the beating was too loud. Was it the stove? Not that either. What could it be? It couldn’t… It couldn’t be! - The heart under the floorboards! Was that the ringing sound I was being plagued with? Did the officers know? Their cheerful faces told it all! Taunting me, teasing me! The beating burrowed within my ears and rattled my brain! - Beat - Beat - Beat - Over and over! Oh Arceus, Lord, make it stop!

 

My head ached, the beating now a ringing in my ears! I was beginning to grow as pale as snow, but the words in my head that kept speaking their meaning to me became louder in volume. The ringing sound increased without relenting. It’s low, dull, quick rhythm - much like a broken watch or radio signal in sound… I gasped for air, with the belief it would cure my bout of horror! Oh, agony!

 

I rose from my seat, pacing the floor quickly at any at my own devices, my guests puzzled as any visitor would be. Oh, Arceus, what to do? I felt foam in my mouth, my hands raving, cussing flying from thy lips in terror! I grabbed the chair with which I had been sitting, surprising the officers of my strength as I did so in the way I lifted it above my head, then grating it upon the floorboards, but it did little to the sound! The ringing steadily increased. It grew louder - louder - louder! And still the men smiled with their disgustingly pleasant chatter. Why? Did they not hear it? Almighty Arceus! - No, no! - They heard and suspected through their false smiles! They knew! - They were making a mockery of my terror! - This is my definite assumption! Anything was better than this agony! More tolerable than this absolute void of despair! Stop with the smiles! I must scream or I must die! Die I must! Again! - I hearken to my crime! - Oh, louder - louder! - Louder!

“Villains!” I shrieked. “Imposters you are no more, you foul spawns of the heavens! I admit to the deed!” Tears of insanity flowed to my darkened gray eyes, buried in my hands while I found myself dropping to my knees in agony. “Tear up the floorboards! Here, here! - It is the beating of the tyrant wench’s hideous heart that I have cursed upon the Old Chateau!"