Belle Adams' Butler
Waking up from a nightmare several hours before dawn, Belle fetched a drink of water. She paused in front of her kitchen's window when she noticed a lit lantern in front of her mansion's garden. Her butler stood there, shovel in hand. This was no hour to be gardening. Curious, she made her way outside, but when she had gotten close enough to see a large and hollow pit next to her eternally-stoic and polite butler, she saw him pick up a rotten body. A DEAD BODY! Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw her handsome butler drop the rotting body into the fresh hole. She asked in horror, "What are you doing?!" Surprised to see his young miss awake at this hour, he stared at her with the same expression he had been keeping up for all these years. He had made sure she was asleep before coming here. "Gardening." "And the body?!" she looked at him in disbelief. "Fertilizer," he answered her before picking up the shovel that was on the ground. Belle was now certain something had possessed her butler. Who gardened dead bodies?! She then heard him ask her, "Want to help me in planting it, Miss Adams?" he gave her a sweet smile. Note: If you enjoy a book of comedy with light-hearted romance and a gothic background. This book is for you~
Chaotic land- Part 1
While still, Belle was in the past, looking at the events that were unfolding again in front of her eyes, in the present, Lucas and the other Grims watched at Belle who had closed her eyes.
"Does it work?" asked Greed to Lucas. Two minutes had passed by and Belle had not opened her eyes. They didn't have the time to stay here, as the other two Hawverts would make an appearance in the house as Gorron had sent out a signal message to them.
"It works," replied Lucas. His eyes had not moved away from Belle. Usually, it didn't take this much time.
Somewhere, he was worried, why Belle had not opened her eyes yet. If he wasn't wrong, the memory of seeing what was happening in the past was equal to the dream time. One hour in the dream was equivalent or less than a minute in the actual world.
"Why do you think Winston has been keeping her here? More like hiding," asked Rower, his head tilting to look at the soul that was unconscious, "She looks pretty though."