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'' Well... start to put together my rocking chair (i think thats the english word for it). Charles said and started to unpack while the zombie started to put together his chair. Charles made the bed. Everything was in purple silk. Then he packed up all his suits and shoes and put them in a old wardrobe. Then his mirror and hanged it on a nail. He would unpack his books later, when the zombie had put together his chair.
'' Wadsworth don't run away'' Charles said and looked at the monkey. It nodded as an answer.
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'' don't just stand there go guard the door'' He said anoyed and looked at the leather piece in wooden frame where all his medals was. From the war against the americans to the war in irak. He sighed and got up and walked to the desk. The desk was filled with bottles with different labels. He took a bottle with the label Young girl from canada.
'' Ah.. How lovely'' He said and smiled. But then he remembered that his last wineglass was crushed by that brainless zombie in an atempt to place it on the desk. He would have to search the house for a glass. He would just make the same runes he always did. In case shit hapeneds and the zombie can't defend the door. The runes protected the door from tresspasser. He had learned that trick from a paranoid mage... that was killed by his own shadow. How sad.
When he had finnished making the runes on the door he grabbed his bottle and got out of the room. Wadsworht jumped onto his shoulder and chewed on a grape that Charles had given to him. He was just about to go upstairs when he noticed that the brainless zombie followed him.
'' No.. You stay here and guard the door'' He said slowly and irritated while pointing at the door. That zombie clearly missed all of his brain.
'' Now Wadswhort shall we find a glass?'' He asked happily and walked upstairs.
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Why am i not suprised He tought and tried not to step in anything. He reached his door and put his hand on the doorknob and stepped in. He walked over to the desk and put his bottle and glass down. Wadsworth jumped off him and climbed up on the wardrobe.
'' So what to do about the exploded zombie Wadsworth?'' He asked and sat down in his rocking chair. He hadn't seen a house spirit yet.. maby the house didn't have one. That would be odd nearly every old house that had magic in it usally had some sort of spirit. He remembered Charlotte, his house spirit back in 1834 when he lived in England.
1834 England
Victory Manor.
The manor had been built on the remains of a old castle from the dark ages. So Charlotte had survived in the only thing intact from the castle. one of the smaller towers that later had been rebuilded into the manor.
Charles opened the door and took of his tophat.
'' I'm home!'' He called out and took of his coat. Charlotte came floating down the stairs. She didn't like traveling thru walls and floors. She looked gracefull today with her purple dress and blonde hair that reached her waist. She looked like she was in his age but she was as old as the castle.
'' Good day Mr.Brookshire, I've missed you'' She said and blushed. They had some strange kind of relationship. She loved him but she was just a spirit. Well she wasn't just a spirit for Charles, he always treated her like something alive.
'' I've missed you too... Do i smell dinner?'' He asked and went into the dining room. Charlotte floated after him and giggled.
'' Yes you do'' She said and pointed at the bottle of blood and the very rare steak, just the way he liked it. He smiled and took a seat.
'' Oh thank you Charlotte'' He smiled and started to eat.
He snapped out of his daydreaming when Wadsworth threw a grape on him.
'' Stop it Wadsworth I'm awake'' He said and threw back the grape. Then he got up and looked into the mirror.
'' Madame House Spirit, Would you care to help me clean up an exploded zombie? He asked and kept looking into the mirror. She probably wouldn't appear in the mirror. She was more likely to pop out behind him and try to scare him like Charlotte did the first days in the manor before she accepted him.
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Sighing rather dramatically, Zurie drew one gloved hand to her forehead, drawing her fingers lightly through her locks of ebony hair soon after. Fine, if he wouldnāt impart with a measly part of his soul, than she would have to find another means of cleaning up the mess. It wouldnāt exactly do to have zombie guts, along with other unsavory things found within a long undead zombie, sprawled across her floors. It was tacky.
āThatās ratherā¦troublesome, but it is your soul to use and I will respect your decision,ā the girl announced from within her mirror expanse, mumbling a quick few phrases, āfor now at least. Spite me again and I wonāt be so inclined to giving you choice.ā Figuring there wasnāt exactly much she could do from within the mirror any longer, the small spirit worked on climbing her way out. The act, requiring a great deal of stretching and pulling on the girlās part normally, came out a bit awkward as she tried to do such in front of Charles. No matter which direction she tried to move, either her dress would begin climbing up, forcing her to play off fixing it like nothing, or her body would become too contorted over the small silver rimmed frame of the mirror to actually allow her any further movement. It was only with glowing scarlet cheeks and a good five minutes later that she managed to escape from the mirror. As well as quickly be reminded why it was she detested the basement so incredibly much. Evil idiotic mirror.
āI apologize for that, traveling is a bit difficult for one such as myself, you see and other than the mirrors, I have no real means of getting down here. Yet, this particular mirror just has to be a bit toā¦tall for my physically small stature,ā the girl tried to excuse, willing the blush on her cheeks down to no avail before continuing, ābut that has no real effect on you nor the mess, now does it? No, not at allā¦So, seeing as how you seem to want to keep your soul intact, however strange that is for a vampire, would you be willing to help me search for a few misplaced house guests then?ā By āhouse guestsā Zurie meant āslavesā, even in death had Victoriaās servants continued their work, albeit in a much more ghastly visage of pale, milky bones and decaying flesh. Once again, Zurie would never understand how lucky she was for her inability to smell.
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