The Beast of the Albard Mansion - Chapter 1
The shadows cling to our feet, a constant presence we can neither escape nor ignore. Even as we loathe the thought of crushing them beneath us, escape is futile.
In the blazing daylight, when the sun reigns supreme, shadows may retreat and wither, yet they never vanish entirely. They are condemned to linger at our heels unseen and insignificant—as if they don’t exist at all. Desi was like such a shadow. Desi was a being that lingered below like a shadow.
On a harsh, snowy winter day, I met Desi for the first time. That day, the snow fell exceptionally hard, turning the whole world white. The garden, the trees, the mansion… everything was covered in white snow.
It was bitterly cold outside, but the cutting wind couldn’t permeate the mansion. Inside the warm mansion, the sound of the wind howling and hitting the windows mingled with the crackling of the fireplace. It was a winter day that felt both cold and warm at the same time.
I watched through the window as Desi entered the mansion. Wearing a collar, bound by chains, and walking barefoot through the snow-covered garden, Desi’s breath was visible as hot, white puffs.
Clink, clink—
With every step Desi took, the chains clattered. I went out to the living room to see the scene up close. It was hard to distinguish whether Desi was a person or a beast. His disheveled, dull hair covered his face, his body was hunched, scarred all over, and terribly thin. His clothes were so dirty and ragged that they were barely worth wearing.
Despite his pitiful appearance, his sharp yellow eyes glinted menacingly from time to time. The sight sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself shrinking back. I looked at my older brother, who was watching Desi with me.
Brother grimaced in disgust, making it clear he didn’t want to go near that filthy creature, and then retreated to his room.
Even though Brother fled, I stayed, driven by curiosity. Desi, dragged by a servant, stopped in the middle of the hall and panted heavily. I could hear the tired breaths coming from deep within his belly, similar to those of an ox that had plowed for a long time or a horse that had been running under the whip for a long while.
When Desi stopped, the servant yanked the leash roughly. However, Desi didn’t budge. It took three more yanks before Desi finally moved. Desi dragged his feet towards the stairs leading down to the dungeon.
“Don’t ever go near that thing. You might catch a disease.”
My father warned me sternly, patting my head.
Even though Desi was right there.
As I stayed silent and kept my eyes on Desi, my father gripped my arm tightly. The strength of his large hand made my entire arm sting painfully. Tears welled up and streamed down my face involuntarily, and I nodded, trembling.
Whenever my father’s hand touched me, it hurt wherever it landed. But I could never let out even a small groan. It was always like that. It felt like a stone was lodged in my throat, blocking my breath. I was a child who didn’t know how to cause trouble or raise my voice.
That day, my father gave the name Desi, meaning trash or waste, to that boy. Trash, waste, debris—Desi.
I thought that name didn’t suit him at all. Though he was so filthy that it was hard to look at him with open eyes, his eyes shone like gold coins, and his expression was fierce like a wild animal. He seemed like a ferocious creature that could survive even if abandoned in the forest.
I had so many questions about why Desi came to our house and why he was treated worse than the maids and servants. But no one would tell me. They all looked startled, put a finger to their lips, and squinted their eyes, warning me not to mention it to the Count, saying he would surely get angry and that I shouldn’t be curious.
So, I stopped asking the servants about Desi. I didn’t want to anger my father. When my father got angry, I had no choice but to curl up. When my father started shouting, my chest would shrink, and my body would tremble. The sorrow would rise, and I would often end up crying, struggling to breathe.
That’s why I approached Desi secretly, away from others’ eyes. The first time I approached Desi was when winter was slowly melting away. The snow on the roof melted and refroze, forming long icicles by the door. The thick ice by the river cracked with a sharp sound. Although the weather was gradually getting warmer, the servants still lazed by the fireplace.
I exhaled softly and secretly went down to the dungeon. Since sunlight didn’t reach the dungeon, it felt several degrees colder. The eerie atmosphere made me tense, and my heart tightened, but I didn’t stop my steps toward the dungeon.
Desi was dirty, smelly, and looked dangerous, but I couldn’t leave him alone. Throughout the winter, I had been struggling with loneliness and boredom. The days were so dull that I couldn’t bear it without checking on Desi, who lived in the shadowy dungeon.
