The Curse of Strings

Chapter 1

What Makes a Man

The workshop was quiet this time of night. The moon was high in the soft blanket of clouds that dusted the sky and covered London like a quilt. The sleeping inhabitants of the stately and picturesque manor were comfortably nestled in their beds. A lone man sat silently at his workstation, glancing over doll parts that became a hobby of his after a day of working hard as the manor's butler. His master slowly slipped away into madness as Drozell could only stand by and watch. His loyalty constantly tested. His heart torn in two. Sadness swept over him as he picked up his tools to make the hand of a puppet that would soon become a friend to the lonely servant.

"I'll make you out of straw and wood. It's not much, but I'll make sure to make you a new body soon." Drozell Keinz spoke in a calm but melancholy voice. His tone depicted sadness, and his hands showed the skill and desperation of a man in need of a companion. His master, Sir Richard Mandalay, was not well; the children were grown and doing their own thing, and the lady of the house was no longer around enough to offer any stimulating conversation other than her day of shopping and parties. Drozell grew bored of his life as a servant and wanted more to do with his time other than taking care of his master's strange requests. Dolls eventually became his life and he was the family's puppeteer since he came to work for the house.
The right hand was completed by the time the moon was high. Drozell removed his apron and left the tiny work room to his own quarters. He undressed in the usual manner and sat at the edge of his lumpy bed. He looked out the dust covered window at the misty night and sighed. "How long will I have to be alone like this? Master is not well and I'm not anymore less lonely. I think I'll go to sleep and maybe an idea will come to me. Perhaps, just perhaps something new will come my way." It was then that Drozell closed his eyes and fell into his slumber, succumbing to his dreams.

The morning came in the usual manner. The sun rose and shone into the servant's room. Drozell woke up to the sound of bells in his chamber, signaling that his master was awake and wanted to be tended to. He rolled out of bed with a sigh. His long, lean form made him appear anorexic due to his lack of sleep and poor diet. His pale skin shown no sign of aging in the normal manner. The sunlight would burn his skin far too easily since he was no longer accustomed to being outside. He dressed in his uniform and set to do his daily routine. In this life and the next, he will always be loyal to the man that was slipping away towards the madness that clouded Sir Mandalay's mind. For safe measure, Drozell tied a red ribbon around his neck to make him appear boyish than his adult body already was and slipped on his boots.

Drozell's appearance was not really significant. He was average height of five feet five inches in height, not too tall, not too small with a thin frame that harbored narrow shoulders and a thin waist. His legs were long and with equally thin arms to complimented his shape. His face was angular that was framed with strawberry blond locks that was styled in such a way that constantly looked messy with two longer locks to hide his ears that hung from his bangs just to the side of his face. His skin had the color of fine bisque porcelain without nary a mark or mar. The only imperfection on his body was his birthmark on the base of his spine that was never seen in the public eye in the shape of a misshapen daisy. Once dressed, Drozell checked his appearance in the broken mirror that served as his own butler. He turned this way and that to make sure that there was not a single stain or mark on the blue swallows tail coat colored in blue with red piping. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked out of his quarters to start his mental list of duties.

With each step he took toward his master's chambers, the heavier his heart felt. Drozell knew that eventually his master would no longer be thinking sanely, and he would have to be committed to the sanitarium which haunted him since his master started to lose his mind. Drozell's secret life would have to be kept away from his master. He still held on to the dream that he would perform again as a puppeteer. It was this hope that kept him going throughout the days of heavy complacency and depressing scenery. If his master found out that he was still doing such things, his master would have him punished and all of his things taken away from him. This was not only to protect himself, but also from the possible troubles that would lie ahead for Sir Mandalay from the press and other companies that would try to destroy his good name, what was left of it.

The moment came when he approached the door. Two knocks, and the raspy voice was heard through the door that signaled Drozell to enter. Without hesitation, he set about his routine to aid his master in getting dressed and ready for the day that lay ahead. "Master, today Dr. Brumlin is coming over to talk to you. I hope you don't mind, but I have made preparations for-" With a bowed head, Drozell was cut off from his sentence and looked up at his master with surprise the moment Sir Mandalay spoke up.

"I don't recall giving you permission to act out on your own!" Sir Mandalay spoke harshly to the strawberry blond, lithe servant.

"But, sir, this is for your health." Drozell's eyes looked saddened and torn from the harsh words of his master that he spent the last five years with.

"I'll live forever!" Sir Mandalay was not backing down for an instant. Drozell sighed internally at his master's arrogance and lack of reality.

Drozell simply bowed and sighed. He knew that reasoning with the aging man was not going to be an easy task. "I understand. I apologize for my impertinence." Drozell drew the curtains in his master's bed chamber and looked out the window briefly at the garden that once displayed many beautiful flowers, now looking more akin to a barren wasteland with no one to attend to the struggling lands that surround the home. Weeds had now taken over and Drozell's heart broke at the pathetic sight. He kept his thoughts to himself at how similar the garden is to his own spirit.

"I'll punish you later. I don't have the time to deal with you." Sir Mandalay stood up from his bed and walked toward his dressing table. Drozell set to work in fetching his master's clothes and shoes without a word spoken. Grooming was done solely by the servant which made it hard for him to view his master as a man, but merely a puppet in his own mind.

"Yes, master." Drozell continued his work and his mind began to take on the sight as if it were a moving picture. The filmstrip shown flickered only the images that his mind's eye wanted him to see and he longed for the completion of his new friend that waited for him in his workshop. He began to grow eager with each passing moment. He was not only eager to complete the life-size doll, but he was also eager to be free from his master's grip despite how loyal he is to the man with broken strings. Everything is controlled by another and others are led by strings to work for those that control them. Sir Mandalay has only me and I see the frustration of his life through the way he controls my strings. Drozell's own mind was beginning to show signs of unraveling but he was unaware of the insanity that would soon take hold of his mind and render him unusable to another home.

Breakfast at the Mandalay manor was much more quieter these past several weeks. Drozell had served his master his usual meal with an internal sigh that his life has become as stale as the bread left on the counter. He hasn't smiled since his master scolded him a few months back for being too perky in the morning. Sir Mandalay told him that his smile reminded him of rotten apples and Drozell felt that his own life was slowly ebbing away. He made certain every morning to check his appearance since he started working for the Mandalay house and hearing such a thing from his own master made his self worth fall through the cracks in a rickety wooden floor. All he had left was the possibility that he could lose the very person that was so important in his life presently. Sir Richard Mandalay gave him a sense of purpose and that purpose was slowly changing into uncertainty. It frightened Drozell into the reality he would soon face that he would no longer be needed or wanted anymore. His hands shook as he poured the coffee into the porcelain cup. His time as a butler would soon end, this he was certain. All he had to look forward to was his doll making hobby which he wasn't quiet sure if it would be lucrative enough to sustain him for long. Desperation gripped his heart that often drove Drozell to do desperate things.

After the meal was completed and Drozell's master wanted to return to his study for the rest of the morning, he took this time to return to making his friend once the menial chores of cleaning and putting away the dishes. With hastened steps through the halls from his master's study, he turned the corner that led to an empty hall that was forgotten through the passage of time since the manor was built. The tiny room was located at the back of the kitchen, but there was no door that led from the kitchen to the hidden hall. This was the only place that he felt the safest. Where he could be himself without feeling like he was being scrutinized with every little thing that he did. It was here that he felt best yet the air of loneliness still lay thick. Once he opened the door to his private hide-a-way, his steps became slower and he was clearly more relaxed.

He picked up his apron that he left so carefully folded on the stool and wrapped it around his waist. He slid onto the stool and picked up his tools. He spoke softly with each movement of his skilled hands to create the mate to the hand that was done the night prior. With a gentle voice, much like the voiced used by a parent to a child, he praised the wood as it gave way to shape from the chisel and tacking hammer. His heart raced and he smiled for the first time in what seemed like ages. Drozell was happy to see his creation take form even though it was only two hands at the moment. One hand was completed, the other hand was still in parts. All that needed to be done is to put the parts together and see if they would move. Success made Drozell's smile grow even wider. Drozell chuckled with glee at the sight of his completed work. "You're going to be a fine man someday. Just you wait. I'm going to give you the most lovely features that any women would swoon for. That's providing if they don't get too close. After all, women do have a tendency to draw a man to do their bidding with just their eyes." With a gleeful smile, he continued his work, humming the tune 'London Bridge' and imagined what his new friend would look like. His own mind had an imagination that rivaled authors but his true talent lie in not story telling, but telling a story through a puppet.

Before Drozell became a butler for the Mandalay's, he worked with his father at the corner performing puppet shows to the local children. He remembered a time when his father was offered a job with a gypsy merchant to draw in a crowd as patrons would shop. Drozell was only five years old when he traveled with his father to Turkey and Greece performing along with his father and the happy memories that he shared with the man that he looked up to and adored all throughout his young life. When Drozell turned 15, he traveled to more countries and learned many new things. He learned how to carve from stone from a meerschaum pipe maker. He learned how to mold ceramics from a tradesman that made tiles and mosaics for the noble families in Greece. He learned how to carve and cut marble without it cracking. Drozell discovered that he had the hands of a creator and since then, he's kept up the practices that he's learned from many which was his own way of thanking those that took their time to teach Drozell. He enjoyed his work so much that he smiled everyday. It wasn't until the death of his father that his smile started to fade and he needed to find work that was safe. He didn't want to continue performing without his father. He was a young man in his early 20's when he came to the employ of the Mandalay house. It has been five years since that day he had seen his father last before consumption took his life. Ever since, Drozell's heart has grown weaker with each passing day that the man that he looked up to for so long was no longer smiling himself. Dementia was slowly taking away Sir Mandalay's mind and the voices were getting stronger. Drozell felt pity for the master that he cared for. Pity for a man that once stood proud as a knight for the queen as a performer himself as a stage actor.

An hour had passed since he started working on the hand. It took all of Drozell's will power to push back the sad memories of his previous life. He looked back at the hand that he was working on and focused on his task. Only the thumb and the palm had been put together before he was summoned again to aid his master via the bell that he heard through the wall in the servants chambers. With a frustrated sigh, he looked at his work and lightly caressed the fingers. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you for the time being. I am being called away to work. I'll be back soon to finish your hand." He untied his cotton apron and set it gingerly on the stool from whence he sat. He looked up at the cuckoo clock and his eyes widened. "I'm terribly late for tea!" Drozell hurried to put on his jacket and ran out the door to continue his moment the door closed, the index finger on the right hand had twitched as if to bid its creator a fond farewell. "How could I have been so careless!?" Drozell ran through the hall and turned the corner toward the kitchen. The moment he entered the kitchen was the very moment that he started the kettle to boil.

Inside the workshop, it would have appeared that the vibration of the door closing had shaken the table. A new life was beginning to form through the heavy emotions of the creator. A smile came to Drozell's face as he fixed the tea in the kitchen. He was not aware of the hand's movements nor was he aware that something new was about to happen in his life. Drozell placed the tea service on the silver tray and put picked it up with considerable skill. He left the kitchen the same why he came to it. He made certain that everything was cleaned and ready for dinner preparations. He planned his lunch to be simple and light, just like the master likes it.

The stone and fresco halls were accented by a blue, filigree patterned carpet that covered the floor of the vast and empty hallways. Paintings of children lined the walls like a private gallery. At the end of the hall was the Mandalay family portrait. Small round tables held vases, but no flowers adorned the halls any longer since the garden was taken over by weeds and bramble. The lone servant sighed at the pathetic display. Drozell had walked these halls many times in his period of servitude to the Mandalay Family. Red met blue in a silent signal that another part of the wing has been approached. To a guest, it would appear to be poor color choices and off the wall planning. Sir Mandalay sat in a chair in an empty room and looked out the spread of full size windows covered in gossamer drapery, tall enough to allow a man to walk through them like a door. Drozell approached the lone chair with the silver tea set that his master was so fond of. He placed the service on the small round table next to the chair and poured the tea in silence. He stole a glance at his master and his heart sank. He continued his work as if he didn't see a thing. Sir Mandalay had not touched his sketch pad. Drozell remembered a time that his master would draw out scenes of the many plays that he performed in. The blank paper reminded him of the emptiness that is now clouding the soul of his master. Drozell had a looming feeling that his master was in one of those unpredictable mindsets that he wanted to make certain not to make any mistakes whatsoever.

Today was one of those days that nothing would go according to the servant's plan. The smallest flaw resulted in scolding and a slap across the face. The strawberry blond covered his cheek with his left hand with tears welling in his blue eyes that widened in fear. 'I failed! I failed him and his health is failing! His mind is unraveling because of me!' He lowered his head as the thoughts ran through Drozell's head that everything that his master was suffering from were all his fault. He didn't want to show his master any more pain. Sir Mandalay already lost his family to society and circumstance. Life was drifting by his master's eyes and there was nothing that Drozell could do to stop the suffering. He thought about putting on a show for him like he did when he first came to service of the family, but that idea was tossed aside when he saw the look in his master's eyes.

"Drozell, you're slipping up." Sir Mandalay's voice came across in a monotone way that sent a shiver up the younger servant's spine.

"I'm sorry." Drozell's simple reply held little weight to the aging man.

"You're pathetic." Richard Mandalay wanted to make his servant suffer just as much as he was suffering. A wicked sneer started to form on his lips as he watched Drozell grew uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." Drozell's voice was starting to crack slightly.

"You're worthless and the only thing you can do is say, 'I'm sorry'." Sir Mandalay now had all the power he needed just then as he watched Drozell break.

"...." The silence between them became thick and nothing that Drozell said or did would impress his master's eyes in the very least. Sadness was washing over him. The only thing that he could do was carry out his master's wishes. It's been this routine for two years and it was steadily getting worse by the day. Drozell cursed his master's family for being so cold to the patriarch of this once grand manor.

"Say something, puppet." The harsh reply rang through Drozell's head like a gong and wouldn't stop. The loud and hard tone that used to carry a caring and endearing voice was now nothing more than a shadow of what it used to be before Sir Mandalay started slipping away from reality. Drozell froze where he stood. His eyes widened then the lids fell to give a sorrowful expression. Pity was seen on Drozell's face and Sir Mandalay despised the look on his servant's brow.

"I'm sorry." The response that Drozell gave seemed dryer and colder than it used to be. He noticed that his own voice was starting to sound cold and he shivered internally. He felt his heart breaking. "Excuse me. I have other duties to attend to." With a bow, the broken servant left the room. The moment he left the room and closed the French doors behind him, Drozell lowered his head and allowed his tears to fall. He allowed himself a few moments to grieve silently before he returned to his work. He wiped his tears with the back of his gloved hand and pulled himself together and pulled himself away from the door.

The silver tea cup that Sir Mandalay had in his hand hit the window, shattered the glass in a spray of crystalline shards. Drozell didn't return to his side to clean up the mess. Yet another mistake the servant made. Sir Mandalay sat in his chair and laughed. The maniacal sound carried its weight through the halls to Drozell's ears. "I'll make sure you never forget your place, puppet." Sir Mandalay's face twisted into a menacing sneer.

"I'm sorry, master. I can't watch you tear yourself apart any longer." Drozell's voice broke. Tears ran down his cheeks as he walked through the hall toward the kitchen to prepare his master's meal. "As you suffer, so do I."

Lunch came and went in silence. Drozell didn't want to provoke the anger of his master so he set to work right away to keep himself busy and away from his master's quick and terrible hands. He already knew that he was going to be punished for his lack of attentiveness earlier today. Drozell dreaded of the outcome but managed to push aside the thoughts with masterful precision. Although his heart was still breaking from watching his master die and without his family to comfort and support the once grand patriarch, Drozell knew deep down that Sir Mandalay needed him just as much as Drozell needed his master. Drozell reached for the empty soup bowl to take it away to the kitchen. At that moment, Sir Mandalay grabbed Drozell's wrist and pulled him toward the aging man and hard. Drozell nearly lost his footing and squeaked out of surprise. His chest landed on the table and Drozell was pinned.

"I'll punish you now since I have the time." Sir Mandalay's voice was thick with a tone that Drozell had never heard before from his master and Drozell grew frightened.

"Sir, please! Forgive me!" Drozell covered his face with his free arm. Sir Mandalay gripped the other arm. With surprising strength, Sir Mandalay pulled Drozell's arm away from his face, flipped the lithe man over to his back, pinning him to the table. Dishes were knocked to the floor and cracked or shattered, spilling it's contents to the carpet. In a last, desperate attempt, Drozell cried out in fear. "I beg you!"

"You don't deserve forgiveness. Prove to me that you are loyal and let me see your blood." Sir Mandalay's voice still held that frightful tone that Drozell began to fear for his life. "You're noting but a toy." Sir Mandalay's body was over Drozell's. The aging man made certain to look into Drozell's eyes. "I want to see your fear."

"I don't understand!" Drozell was not only trying to fight off his master, his head was thrashing about to the left and to the right to avoid eye contact with his master, he was fighting off his own sense of survival to kill the very man that he was loyal to. His legs were moving erratically to try to find an opening to fend him off. "What do you want of me?!"

"Your soul." Sir Mandalay's voice took on a deeper tone, his smile grew even more menacing. He laughed maniacally as he watched Drozell struggle. "I have everything else from you and all I need is your soul. Once I have it, you're mine forever."

Through sobs, Drozell knew that he was outmatched. The aging man was too much for Drozell to take on alone and his body grew fatigued. His struggles ceased after ten minutes and he closed his eyes. "My soul isn't for you to take." Drozell's voice was barely a whisper and Sir Mandalay had let go of one of his hands to deliver a hard slap across the younger servant's face.

Sir Mandalay spoke out of anger. "You don't have a choice. The moment you came into this house, you became my property!" The crazed master leaned in close to Drozell's head and whispered menacingly into the younger servant's ear which made Drozell even more uncomfortable.

Drozell squeaked at the pain that was delivered and by luck, Sir Mandalay was distracted enough that he didn't see the knife coming toward his shoulder. Drozell rolled off to the side and tucked his body into a ball and rolled off the table backwards. Once he was on the floor, he scrambled up to his feet and ran out the door. His face throbbed in pain and blood trickled down from his nose. His eyes watered but he couldn't stop. He knew that Sir Mandalay would follow after him. It wasn't until he got to the main doors that he realized something important, his companion. There was no way that he was leaving him behind. In a last, desperate attempt, he hurried to his room, gathered what he could in a duffel bag, ran to the hidden work room, and jumped out the window.

Although weakened, Drozell continued to run until he could run no longer. In a field just outside of London, Drozell collapsed from exhaustion. Tears flowed from his blue eyes as he curled up and sobbed away his pain and torment from today's event. "How could I have been so careless?" Drozell slipped out of consciousness and submitted to the darkness despite the sun was high in the sky.

A/N: I don't believe in putting random quotes in weird places in a story. To me, that just ruins the feel. However, there is a part in this particular chapter that if you miss it, most likely you'll get the wrong idea or impression in the rest of the story. I'm not going to give it away here. It's WAY too soon. Also I used the subbed name for Drozell because that's the only part that I've really seen that ever mentioned his name. I haven't completely read the manga yet so that's my defense.

This is also a work in progress so I'm not going to be posting this on until I'm completely satisfied with it. I am aiming to be the first to post a story about Drozell so it's going to be a ground breaking thing for me. Also this is the first time that I've written anything suspense or horror based in a long time. I hope that I do the genre justice.

I don't own any of these characters in this fic and I don't own a silver tea set so don't ask what brand it is. I pretty much will tell you that I'm not very well versed in china or fine wares. I own a 20 year old car for crying out loud. LOL