Surviving As An Obsessive Servant Novels & Stories

She feels very upset because the problem is now getting worse. Servant glared so wide that Gemma automatically kept her hands ready in case his eyeballs slipped and fell. “What should I do?!” Servant asked, half screaming, half howling in a shrill, hoarse voice. Sarah pointed Alfhild at Servant’s head. “If I kill you, will your soul be able to get out of it?” Servant raised his hand in surprise. “It’s not that easy, Miss.” “There’s no harm in trying.”

Noticing that Faye had begun to push the scissors deep until she left a bloody cut on her throat, the servant was petrified! “I’m going to say this for the last time. Get out of my way, or else I’m ending my life,” Faye said in a very determined tone. The servant was caught in a difficult position. Osiris had ordered her to watch Faye. If she were to die in her care, it would be the end of her life too. Just as she was caught in a difficult position, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from the outside. Soon afterward, a bantering voice said. “Sheesh, miss. You’ve just returned home for a few days, but you’re already committing suicide?”

What if the shuck attacks really are getting worse? I try not to let the panic settle in my chest, but it creeps in anyway. I haven’t seen Zev in days—not that I’m looking. And when I do see him, he avoids my gaze like a coward. Kira, on the other hand, never misses a chance to remind me of what I am. Alyssa the Omega. The servant. The entitled traitor. I’m crouched behind the smithy, catching a breath, the scent of iron and smoke still thick in my nose. My fingers rub absently at the small scar along my wrist. A reminder that I am a survivor.

She scribbled again, hands trembling. [The laws forbid servants from being familiar with their masters.] I stared at the words. My throat tightened. “I’m not the law,” I said. “I’m just… me. I don’t see you as lesser, Kiva. You’re not trash. You’re not beneath me. We’re both just trying to survive in a place that feeds on obedience.” She covered her mouth with her hand, blinking fast. Then she wrote again, slower this time. [You’re very kind.]

Qeiza tried to release herself from Ansel’s grasps, but he was very agile in reading her movements. HOP! Unpredictably, Ansel’s stocky arms had lifted her slim body and carried her toward the couch. “You are crazy, Sir!” Qeiza insulted him as soon as he sat her on the couch. Ansel smiled slightly. “I don’t like any kind of rejections,” he insisted. “So, be obedient and everything will be easy.” “One more,” he added. “Keep that ‘Sir’ away. I do hate your formal attitude.” Qeiza clenched her teeth, feeling so upset with the powerful attitude shown by Ansel.

My dreadful father had always wondered how I miraculously stayed alive, despite all the hate around me. Even the Omegas were not treated as harshly as I was. I survived by staying low, quiet, and obedient while studying every nook and corner. Every character. And every careless gossip. Being a servant is what I’ve done my whole life. It silently gave me access where others couldn't reach. With it, I tricked the guards, prevented rape and deadly schemes from Miranda and Beth.

Servants quickly bowed whenever she passed. But this time, it felt different. As though they no longer saw her as an ordinary maid. The feeling was incredibly strange to Iris. "That's odd..." she whispered softly. But she quickly shook her head and tried to ignore it. It's fine. Tomorrow everything would go back to normal. She would return to cleaning the Emperor's office... Organizing his books... And preparing his coffee as usual. That alone was enough for her. A small smile appeared on her face at the thought.

He kissed my left palm while watching me with a smirk. I thought about his words momentarily. "No, I don't." I shook my head. "Servants aren't meant to have good lives. They are meant to serve their betters; if need be, they will be thrown away and replaced." I said firmly, "We are just some small cogs in the greater workings of a clock." That is going to be my reality. Someday, I'll be tossed out once I serve my purpose. I always wonder if that day is swiftly approaching.

Indestructible. That word tasted wrong in my mouth. Like worship. Like a myth. I wasn’t here to be worshipped. I wasn’t a creature of awe, I was something else. Something they should remember not by stories but by the weight of their own broken bones. A sizzle of movement to my left caught my attention, two servants paused as I passed, their heads bowed in a grotesque show of obedience. But it wasn’t respect. It was the fear. The kind that makes men obedient without understanding why.

I was preparing to fight. He circled me once more, lingering near the desk, scanning my notes, the hidden drives, the small deviations I had left. “Tomorrow,” he said finally, voice low, dangerous, “we continue. You will obey. You will follow the rules. You will live under my control. But remember, Jessy… I am always watching.” I nodded. “I understand,” I whispered. But this time, the words were layered. Surface obedience. Hidden defiance. Calculation. Survival.