I Faked My Infection To Survive the Manor

Veronica had a plan.

"I know how to tell them apart," she said. "The hosts develop a dark, web-like pattern of filaments under their skin. It's usually most visible on the neck and chest."

"The problem," she continued, "is that the marks are always hidden by their uniforms. We need a way to make them show some skin."

An idea sparked in my mind. I quickly wrote it down on my notepad and handed it to her.

She read it and a grim, satisfied smile spread across her face. "Good idea."

A short while later, she had Mrs. Carson gather all the maids in the tower. There were eight of them, including Chloe. We all stood in our crisp black-and-white uniforms, heads bowed, looking perfectly normal.

Veronica's eyes scanned the line of women. "I seem to have misplaced a diamond necklace," she announced, her voice dripping with her usual arrogance. "And I'm quite certain the thief is one of you."

She pointed to a dressing room in the corner. "All of you, into the dressing room. I want you to strip to the waist so I can personally inspect you for my property."

No one dared to disobey. Mrs. Carson led the way, and the others filed in behind her. As the door closed, my heart began to pound against my ribs.

Mrs. Carson was the first to undress. As she unbuttoned her uniform, revealing her chest, I saw it. Her skin was a nightmarish canvas of dark purple lines, a dense web spreading across her collarbones and chest. In the dim light, they seemed to have an unnatural, living sheen.

One by one, the other maids removed their blouses.

And one by one, they revealed the same horrifying marks.

Every single maid in the room, except for me, was infected. They were all puppets.

Even more terrifying, as they stood there, half-undressed, the way they looked at me changed. The blank indifference was gone, replaced by a dangerous, predatory focus. It felt like being prey surrounded by predators.

Chloe slowly turned to face me, the web of filaments on her chest seeming to pulse in the dim light.

"Ava," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "Your turn."

All eyes were on me. I was surrounded, about to be torn apart. I forced myself to stay calm, to mirror their empty expressions.

I took off my blouse. My chest, too, was covered in a web of dark lines.

Mrs. Carson’s eyes lingered on my chest for a few seconds before she nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face. The tension in the room broke. The maids relaxed, their expressions returning to that vacant stare. I had passed their test.

Thank God for Veronica, who had spent ten minutes before the gathering painting the intricate patterns on my skin with a mix of inks and dyes.

They hadn't noticed a thing. If they had, I'd either be dead or one of them.

The maids dressed and filed out of the room. As I left, I turned and gave Veronica a slight shake of my head.

She understood. There were no other survivors.

In this tower, it was just the two of us against all of them.