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The house was quiet, the corridors empty and the lawn outside that hadn’t been mowed for two days now. In the empty hallways, and the darkened rooms, Mr. and Mrs. Artemis were in a room which was often locked and never opened in the presence of anyone, that was if there was someone in there to find out who never came to this part of the house.
They had been living in this house for decades now, making their presence known yet hiding from the people who could catch up to their acts of what they had been doing all these years. People who questioned their existence as humans who had lived this long had considered and concluded them to be blessed and not one ever questioned about their longevity of life if they could be a pair of white witches.
It was because people who questioned them were often silenced by their minds. Pushing their mind to close itself in a way one didn’t remember about them, turning their memory faint, something they had acquired from the black witch.
“It didn’t work on her,” said Mrs. Artemis, picking up the teacup which she had placed on the table earlier, “Did you notice it?”
“Didn’t you get the potion right Mrs. Artemis?” her husband asked, his eyes looking up at her dully.
“It worked on Mr. Patrick fine. I don’t know why it shouldn’t work on her. There was enough time for the potion to sink into her body and reach her mind,” after finding out that the young human had gone walking around the mansion to come in place in front of the portraits which was placed in the other side of the room where they were in right now, an elderly couple of white witches had decided to clean out her mind. To remove the necessary bits and to let her live the way she was living so far, “I took her back to the portrait and she looked more intrigued than before. She found something out.”
“We should invite her back to a tea party and give her the potion,” Mr. Artemis proposed the idea, staring down at the bubbling froth of pot in front of him, he added the dead mice into it, “It would be reckless to not clean her mind if she has a doubt. Though I doubt she will ever find anything.”
Mrs. Artemis smiled a calm collected smile. Adding the powder she had just created into the tea box as her husband brewed another potion, she said, “She appears to be a curious girl. They are never good. She might end up telling the man, Mr. Quinn was it.”
“Don’t worry about it, dear. It isn’t the first time we have erased ourselves when it comes to others finding anything remotely close to us. Let’s send out an invitation to dinner. We’ll have the Lord and the others as a precaution and wipe about us,” Mr. Artemis assured his wife, looking at her with his snake-like eyes that looked green and yellow from his previously human eyes to indicate the black witch blood that had started to stir in his body.
His wife smiled, “Excuse me then while I go start writing down the invitation.”
Mrs. Artemis took herself out of the room, a lantern in her hand, she walked through the corridors where her leg slightly limped due to the side effect of a potion she had made a year ago. It was the time of night, the night wind softly whistling outside the mansion while trying to get through by the sides of the windows.
As she continued to walk in the dark and the lantern being the only source of light, she came upon a maid who stood still. Mrs. Artemis took two seconds to admire the maid, the maid she had modified and made herself. With a continued smile on her lips, she touched the maid’s face.
The maid’s eyes moved but her expression remained the same, like a soul that was trapped in the body that was not under her control.
“Have you been having fun, Patricia?” Mrs. Artemis asked the young-looking maid.
The maid’s eyes widened, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “This is what happens to naughty children,” said the woman, letting her hand drop to stare at the maid, “Do you regret stepping on the property? You could have had a good life, outside and away if you didn’t come snooping in here. Look what you brought upon yourself.”
“Are you talking with the maid again,” Mr. Artemis came out with his own lantern, his expression as dead as the maid but still having life as he wasn’t under the spell.
Mrs. Artemis didn’t bother to turn to look at her husband who walked towards where she was, “She is my favorite out of all the collectible members we have in here,” confessed Mrs. Artemis to her husband, “She used to be such a lovely girl.”
And as the husband and wife spoke to each other in front of the maid who had been standing there in darkness until the couple had arrived, she hadn’t spoken a word. Not a single breath of hers had changed though she wanted to she couldn’t. Her body was not under her command or control but under these elderly couples who had done something to her due to which her body refused to listen to her own mind.
“I am glad that I have you here. Remember the first time we met. You said you were fond of my cooking, and I was so happy,” she said to the maid named Patricia, “You said you wanted to spend more time with me,” hearing this the maid’s eyes slightly widened as if meaning to tell her she didn’t want it anymore, “And here were are. Together and forever.”
Mr. and Mrs. Artemis started to leave the maid, walking to pass many other servants who had been standing in the dark instead of having themselves in the servants quarters. Walking with their two lanterns they made their way to the ground floor where light slowly started to fill in space not letting one know what was there on the other side of the house.
