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 Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 1:24 am
Part one
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The house was large and mist wavered around the bottom of the stairs- it was hard to tell whether it was for show or not. It wouldn't be surprising as the Virus family lived (figuratively speaking, of course) to impress. Elise Mudd (previously Elise Virus) sat in the house, waiting for her butler to bring her the snack that she had ordered him to make, just five minutes earlier. For once in her life, it was not for her. No, it was for her daughter Claire who was yet to arrive home from her first year at the academy she had somehow managed to be enrolled in. Not that Elise Mudd thought little of her daughter, (in fact, that would be a downright lie) she thought her daughter was just as smart as her other children. But perhaps in different ways, as the eldest daughter, Flea, was incredibly intelligent and had a convenient knack of getting whatever she wanted with little fuss. The only reason Elise thought Claire might've had difficulties enrolling was that Claire was not obviously smart. It would take some digging to find her true intelligence.
The sound of a skele-horse drawn cart alerted Elise of Claire's arrival. She sighed as she pulled herself of the seat (it could have easily been mistaken for a throne) and moved to the front door to wait to greet her daughter. The butler arrived with the snack and Elise passed it to Claire with a smile.
The news would have to come later.
“What do you mean you're leaving?” Claire snapped, looking outraged.
“Just for a small while, Claire! Anyway, you'll be staying at Flea's cottage further south. You'll like it there.” Elise said Calmly.
“Flea isn't as perfect as you think she is, mothe--”
“It's not going to work, Claire. You're staying with Flea.”
“For how long?”
“Two weeks, starting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You can't be serious!”
“So what if I am? Be quiet. I can't give you special treatment. Your sisters are staying at my mother's and you're staying at Flea's. No further discussion.”
And that was that. If Claire had her way, though, there would be much more discussion and not the pleasant kind.
Claire dragged her bag up the marble staircase to her room on the top floor. She was looking forward to resting over her vacation but her hopeful fire had been stamped out by the evil that was her sister Flea. Claire despised Flea. She was perfect in the eyes of everyone else but Claire- Claire knew her secrets. Behind the innocent face and loads of wealth was the burning desire to have Claire suffer, and suffer miserably. She scowled as she unpacked her belongings into her room before attempting to pack for another two weeks of work. She didn't need this right now. Stupid sisters.
Stupid, stupid sisters.
Stupid mother! Stupid father. Everyone was stupid in Claire's eyes. She swore quietly at all of them as she packed the bag. She didn't really pay attention as to what she put in the bag, but hopefully it would do.
...Stupid sisters.
The trip lasted for what felt like days. Claire's impatience grew stronger with every whip of the horse. She knew her vacation was not really going to be a vacation and sitting in a cart with nobody to talk to amplified the annoyance and distrust that she had for her eldest sister. She arrived at the cottage with an abrupt halt. The reaper steering the carriage jumped off his seat and opened Claire's carriage door briskly and pulled her out firmly, with no obvious sign of irritation or impatience, just boredom. Claire pulled herself to the front door and waited as long as she could get away with before ringing the bell. When she did, there was the slightest sound of movement before her sister opened the door, took one look at Claire and gave her an unconvincing smile, gesturing for her to come in. Claire obliged, unsmiling.
“Claire can you grab that brush over there?” Flea said to Claire, taking her luggage to put in another room
“Why?”
“Just do it, please.” Flea yelled from the other room.
Claire rolled her eyes and grabbed it, following her. “Now what?”
“Pop it on the bench.”
“Okay... now what?”
“That's it.” she said, trying to stop a laugh.
“That's... it? No slaying of dragons or anything?”
Flea didn't bother suppressing it- she laughed at Claire's tone of surprise and started to unpack her clothes into the drawer. “That comes later. Grab that bucket, would you?”
“Haven't you got a butler?” said Claire, sounding annoyed about the huge amount of work she was doing.
“No.” Flea said shortly, exiting the room. “You coming?”
“Whatever. And why would you buy a metal bucket? It's heavier. I'd get plastic.” Claire grabbed the bucket and followed her out again.
"Plastic would be...you'll see, little one."
Claire wasn't looking forward to whatever they were doing.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2011 9:27 pm
Part two
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“You've got to be kidding me.” Claire whimpered as she stared at the pit of skitters that her loving sister had collected. The pit wreaked with the smell of decomposing bugs and animals that the skitters had devoured. “What are you making me do, Flea?”
“You need to get me seven of them for tea.”
“We're having SKITTERS for dinner? Are you serious? Wh-what do I do?”
Flea rolled her eyes as she threw a pair of thick gloves on the ground for Claire. “You're getting them out, and then you're putting them in the metal bucket. They bite. Don't bother being careful, I don't actually care if you get hurt or not.”
Claire opened her mouth in disgust as she put on the gloves. Her sister was a stupid rat. “Where are you going? I can't do this alone!”
“Yes, you actually can. No skitters, no food. Simple as that.”
With tears of frustration in her eyes, Claire got to work to figure out how in Jack's name she was going to get out the skitters.
Stupid sister! Claire thought as she put on foot cautiously into the pit. She was going to do this carefu--- OH DEAR GOD. She slipped and fell into the pit with a scream and suddenly the skitters started to surround her- there had to be thousands of them. Claire panicked and jumped to grab hold of the bucket which she had smartly left at the top of the pit. She did manage to grab it, but not before getting bitten by three skitters. Claire stood of her tippy-toes in a corner with her bucket as the skitters surrounded her. Using quick thinking, she lay the bucket side-down on the ground using the theory that they would climb in. Only one did, and the rest were much more smart and walked around it. Fair enough. But she had one out of seven now, that was a start. Claire ripped off her belt to lash it at the skitters who backed up a bit. She stopped whipping them and quick as a flash scooped up two more. Now she had three and the task was looking much easier than originally anticipated. The skitters were acting pretty behaved in her bucket which was surprising, but she was careful not to become too trusting. She kicked at a slightly smaller one which jumped on her leg. She was calm and collected as she scooped it, too, into the bucket. Four. She had four. More than half, that was! From her sleeve she pulled a piece of bread which was a day old and threw it on the ground. As planned, three more skitters clambered towards it, distracted. She scooped them up with ease and quickly reached to put the bucket at the top of the pit. It didn't even fall over! She found a piece of rock protruding from the pit and used it to lever herself up above the pit. Then, she grabbed the bucket and made her way inside, feeling both angered at Flea and proud of herself.
“Took your time, darling.” said Flea sarcastically, not looking at Claire as she sat in a finely-crafted chair, filing her nails.
“I almost died, Flea!”
“Rubbish.”
“Ugh. What do I do with these, then?”
“Go into the kitchen and grind them with the mortar and pestle. One at a time. And don't mess up the kitchen. Then meet me back here with them crushed in a bowl. Go on!”
“Yes master...” she muttered under her breath angrily as she walked away with the bucket.
The grinding itself was difficult as the skitters kept trying to hurry away, but she managed. After lots of skitter squealing and shell flying everywhere, Claire was done. She put the remains into a bowl and went back to Flea with the bowl.
“Good job, midget! I'm sure fluffykins will love it.” Flea said with a wide grin
“Fluffy...kins? What do you mean?”
“My Spoilers. You've met him before...”
“I know who it is, stupid! What do you mean he'll love it?”
“For dinner. I, unlike you, feed my pets.”
“You said it was for us!”
“No, I didn't. I chose my words carefully. We're having salad.”
Claire's eyes widened and her face turned red. First, she'd risked her life to find 7 skitters, then she had become exhausted grinding them up, it turned out it was for a stupid pet and NOW she's having salad for dinner? Not cool.
Claire was wise in her decision not to say anything, though, as her sister would have blown up in her face. So, she smiled and went back to her temporary room. She'd take her anger out on the pillow later.
Salad for dinner? Really?
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Posted: Mon Sep 26, 2011 9:37 pm
Part 3 and dear god this was fun to write
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Flea loved to pick on Claire, and having two weeks alone with her gave her plenty of excuses to do so. Her hair, her shoes, her attitude, her diet, her pets, her face. It was open season for Flea taunting. They were usually petty taunts, but a few times Flea would sit Claire down and claw at her until nothing but sweet flesh remained for her to chew and and turn into what she wanted. This had happened in the past with Claire's posture, but nothing had compared to this. Flea didn't approve of Claire's clothing, and was ready to make it obvious.
“Sit down.”
“What? Why?”
“Sit. Do not talk, do not move. You will listen to me and do as I say or there will be no food for you for the rest of your stay but brussel sprouts and cabbage.”
Claire didn't talk, nor did she move. She knew what was coming and the only thing she didn't know about what was going to happen was what Flea was going to attack her about.
“Clothing in this family, Claire, is not a minor issue,” Ah. “It is not an acceptable thing for a ghoul of this family to flaunt herself as if she is not but a peasant undead with no care at all for her looks. The moment you walked into this house and I noticed your dress I felt like vomiting in my mouth. This is not acceptable and I will not let you parade around in public like this. I gave you a chance, however. I figured that you were only wearing that revolting wear for the trip and you had much more respectable clothing in your suitcase,” Claire bit her lip in anticipation. “Second day, nothing better. I was still able to keep an open mind. It is now the 7th day of your stay and nothing better has has the pleasure of being worn. Your complete disregard to this family's status in the social and fashion world is not going to slip by. Take off your jacket, your belt, your boots, your socks and everything else until you are in your shirt and shorts. That is all I want you to wear currently. I will not be as cruel as to force you to wear your underwear, though I am fairly sure it will be as distasteful as the rest of your wardrobe.”
Claire looked at Flea, asking silently whether she had permission to stand. Flea nodded, her face calm. Claire rid herself of the clothing until she was down to her shirt and shorts and sat down again, looking fairly scared by Flea now. This was unlike anything Flea had done while attacking aspects of her. It was as though Flea had read her mind when she continued.
“You're wondering why I give so much as a flying Jack about your clothing. 'Why?' you say. I'll tell you why, Claire Virus. It's because of your last name. And mine. Your last name is not just there. It's a part of you that will always be important whether you change it or not. It is your brand. If you disgrace our brand, Claire, I will come in while you are sleeping and rip out your throat. I will feed it to my pit of skitters and they will grow. Then, I will take them into your room and let them have at you. They will feed on you slowly. You will feel every twinge of pain and I will be there enjoying it in respectable clothing. Do you understand me?”
Claire nodded, her eyes wide. She quite honestly wouldn't put it past Flea to do that, even if mother dear thought the best of her.
“I understand from your terrible sense of fashion that you cannot shop for yourself. I will take you tomorrow, and no. I will not pay a dime. You will pay from your undoubtedly large pile of money and I will pick out everything you buy. It won't be ugly, I can assure you.” She stopped for a few seconds, letting Claire take everything in. “This will be good for you. I can promise you that. Ever wonder why nobody takes you seriously? You'll have people clambering over you, just because you look the part. It's worked for me. I'm done now, Claire. I've said my part. Go to your room and pick out the most respectable clothes you have. It'll be hard, I realize that. Save them and chuck everything else out. You will wear that tomorrow when we shop.”
Claire nodded and stood up to go to her room, eyes wide and scared. “Jack save me now.” she said quietly as she flopped on the bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 5:16 am
Part 4
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Claire woke up with a strange sense of relief washing over her. Frightday. Finally. This afternoon, Claire would be picked up by her driver and she'd begin the journey back to her home. Her sweet, sweet home. She could imagine it now-- her butlers welcoming her in to the dining room for afternoon tea and she'd watch tv from her comfy chair while being treated to the finest foods that one could ever wish for. Her stomach was pale and sickly from the two-week stay where she had eaten not but vegetables and salad. Her sister did this on purpose, of course, knowing Claire's worst weaknesses. She missed being pampered every day by her servants and being greeted each morning with a buffet breakfast and a loving mother. It was funny and yet scary to Claire how much she could change in two weeks, especially with Flea. She didn't know whether to be happy or not. She wasn't very happy, understandably, about the physical changes that Flea had forced upon Claire. Her hair was now in neat, well-groomed ringlets at the back of her head and she had a whole new wardrobe full of what Flea considered to be proper dress.
Puffy-sleeved silk shirts and tight floral stockings over poofy skirts with the fanciest shoes Claire had seen in her life. Flea had also forced Claire to buy cleaning spots (tiny stickers which Claire was to put on her clothing after every meal to clean up the 'horrid, disgusting mess' that Claire made after eating. They spread instantly like an anti-mess virus to clean up anything and make her clothes fresh) and large amounts of makeup. Claire thought it was all a bit much, but was beginning to like her new look.
Claire, however, had absolutely despised her stay at Flea's cottage. It was almost scarring for Claire. Her hate for Flea had become chart-breaking stuff and she was so, so pumped to leave. Packing her bag was an extremely joyous time for Claire and she almost started crying of happiness. This trip had been hell, and Claire was looking forward so much to eight weeks of freedom. She was almost glowing with happiness when she went out to make breakfast for Flea. She resisted the urge to spit in her food before bringing it in to Flea, who was resting in bed with her coffee and newspaper.
“There you go, sisterwistamista cuddlypoops!” said Claire as she put the food on Flea's lap.
“What are you so happy about?”
“Going home this afternoon, cuddles!”
“Jack.”
“Forgot, did you?”
“Yes. But that doesn't mean I haven't done what I wanted to do. You're improved now. Your mother is a smart woman, Claire.”
“My... what?” Claire was at the doorway when she turned around suddenly.
“You do know that mother sent you here for a reason, right?” No reply “Oh honestly, Claire. You were weak and you couldn't do a thing to save your life. Mother loves you of course, you're basically her favorite. But really, even you have to admit that you were a fragile doll with no experience in work whatsoever. So, I pitched the idea to mother. You come here like a bootcamp and toughen up. Of course, I still despise you and wanted to make you suffer, and that was what I got out of it.”
“Weak?” Claire said feebly, face dropping. “Why?”
“Mother loves you, that's all. And besides, everyone else in this family is strong. Even Lem. Oh don't look at me like that! You've got respectable clothing now! Your hair is beautiful and neat. You look like a civilized lady. You don't have to thank me, but in the future, whether you voice it or not, you'll thank me. Now go clean stuff up and get ready to go. I'll let you watch that bloody show you're always blabbing about. Go!”
Claire obliged, head buzzing with the information that Flea had just told her. Her mother, Elise Mudd, had planned this.
All of it.
3:45pm. The carriage should have arrived five minutes ago, but Claire's spirit was not lessened. She was beaming with delight on the front steps. Flea opened the front door and went to sit next to Claire. She was smiling uncharacteristically. It seemed sincere. She put her arm around Claire and her head on her shoulder, black hair spilling around her neck. Claire sat frozen and confused. Was Flea... giving her a hug? No, she must've been attempting to strangle her. That seemed a more likely option.
But it felt like a hug. Claire didn't hug her back, just in case Flea was attempting to strangle her.
When the carriage arrived, about four minutes later, Claire gave Flea a curt nod and put her luggage in the back of the carriage. Flea waved with a laugh as Claire's carriage left, taking her home.
When she got there, her mother greeted her with an “Oh Claire, you do look beautiful. I always disliked your hair.”
Maybe, just maybe, the trip did Claire some good.
Maybe.
---
oh dear god I finished it
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