‘The young lady… is a right terror’

This is Maud’s opinion and she’s sticking with it.

Synthia doesn’t quite get it.

She felt like she was being a perfect little girl.

After all, she didn’t cry, she ate her meals quietly without any fuss (even though the food sucks), and never once made a mess of her crude toys.

That little bit about sneaking out as much as she can to explore the mansion was more than made up for by her obedience, she felt.

At the moment, Synthia was making her way through one of the many identical hallways.

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Would it kill them to at least clean a little? There is dust all over the floor, except in that one spot near the wall.

Wait a minute.

Yep, hidden door. Hmm, where to press? Ah, the wallpaper here is a bit faded.

Click.

The smell appeared before anything else, a sharp metallic smell mixed with hot wax.

The door opened just a smidge, enough to poke her head around. Before her was a young woman chained to the wall, gashes and cuts all over her exposed arms.

Next to the woman was a teenage boy, holding aloft a bloodied dagger.

He grinned madly at the blood trailing down his arms from the dagger, not having noticed the intruder.

As he finally noticed and his face adopted a more neutral look, Synthia finally noticed why he was so similar.

He looked just like her ‘Father’.

The silence looming between them was broken by a gentle voice. “mrawd?”