Faithful Servant

Elysium is as far as to.
The very nearest room.
If in that room a friend awaits.
Felicity or doom.

Emily Dickinson

We lived in a great house on a hill, miles from town. The servants and I served the master of the house for many years. He had always been kind to us, to me. The master and I were quite fond of taking long morning walks beside a stream that ran past the property. During these walks, he would talk for hours, recounting tales of his youth. And I would listen attentively to each one. Our friendship grew stronger as time passed. I never left his side.

We often hunted quail and wild pheasant in the woods behind the house. During these hunts, I learned that I had an innate skill for killing. My master seemed very pleased with my newfound abilities. Some would argue that it was nature calling, or perhaps it had always been in my nature.

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In later years, my master fell on difficult times. He sold many of his possessions and family heirlooms to cover the servants' wages. The servants stayed on until the coffers ran dry. Then the hunts and walks stopped, and food became scarce. But I could not, in good conscience, leave my master's side.

As time went on, my master's health and his house fell into decline. He started to walk about the empty house at night, having conversations with himself. Some nights, I'd find him standing at the edge of the landing to the great stairway, staring into the dark.

More time passed, and what little food we had was now all but gone. And so I walked the empty halls, hungry. I walked until I noticed a foul smell. A smell that had traveled to every room and every floor of the house. Curious why I hadn't noticed it until now, I followed the scent, descending the great stairway. The odor intensified until there, on his back straddling the curtail step of the great stairway, lay my master, half-eaten.

Remembering, I became disheartened by what I had done and by what I was now compelled to do. I had hoped that our lifelong friendship would somehow absolve me of this guilt and shame. Even so, I looked away from my friend's gaze as I bit into him once more.