- You know how people have these little habits that get you down? -
I was the first servant of Phantomhive to be hired -no, recruited- after the fall of the family, save for Mister Sebastian. I worked alone for quite some time, the butler tending more to the young master than to the cleaning. I kept to myself, and the manor was peaceful.
After a while, our gardener and groundskeeper Finnian came to live with us. He was in shambles, first time I laid eyes on him. Fidgety, nervous little lad. A 'rescue,' Mister Sebastian called him. Not long after, I found out why the young master kept Finny around. The boy could lift stone blocks the size of a horse-cart! Needless to say, the household was a bit more boistrous afterward, but it was tolerable.
Then came Bard.
Bard liked to burn things.
No, not burn… Explode.
As it turns out, he was ex-military. A soldier. An expert with guns and explosives, and a decent shot. Not quite as good as my own, though, of course. But anyway, the point is, the day that man walked through the door was the last bearable day I remember.
Bard never knew when to leave the artillery outside of the kitchen. To him , a flamethrower was a light sauteé. If it weren't for Mister Sebastian, the young master would have never gotten an edible meal.
So, one night, I'm lying in my room, and I'm really tired. It'd been a long day, and cleaning the whole manor can leave a girl rather sore.
So, I'm lying there, and all of the sudden, this huge noise rattles our servants' quarters like an earthquake. I fly out of bed, grab my shotgun from behind my bed, and run out to find the source.
And there, in the kitchen is Bard.
Smoking a cigarette, and burning a snack.
No, not burning. Exploding!
So, I said to him, I said, 'You use that thing one more time…!'
And he did. The next day, he melted a pot clean off of the stove. So, I got my shotgun again, and fired two warning shots.
Into his head.