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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1903665
He's the most powerful man I've ever met, to tell you his story I have to tell you mine.
Prologue: Before

         “The outside world is angry,” A Masked Man says to no one in particular.

         A tall silhouette is standing in the dark corner of the room, his face consumed by darkness due to the dim light. “Maybe it’s just tired of everything it has to put up with,” he says.

         The Masked Man moves closer to the curtain-less square window the room has to offer, and observes the wicked storm that unravels before him. “The world does not get tired,” he begins and a sinister grin forms beneath the mask, “Instead she takes it personally and fights back like a bitch.” Thunder roars and vibrates the walls in the room.

         A chuckle escapes from The Tall Man, “It reminds me of someone I know.” The Tall Man moves away toward the door, he gives one last glance towards The Masked Man, and then he’s gone.

         “Ayola!” screams The Masked Man from the dim lit room.

         Instantly a short thin woman with completely sliver white hair, despite her appearance of a middle aged woman, appears and enters the room. She approaches The Masked Man with a calm pace, she stops just three feet away from him, and waits patiently until he addresses her.

         As she waits, Ayola takes time to assess The Masked Man and notices his off-ness. Is he worried? She thinks. No, it’s more of a lost or vacant feel she decides. Then she begins to worry, because her master is never the one to show weakness. Ayola begins to hope he has called her here as a mother figure for advice, and not as a common maid, who are plentiful all around the house.

         “Ayola,” The Masked Man begins, and Ayola is tensed and erect with the sound of her name. “Ayola… once this… begins; you will no longer be my chambermaid. You are no longer allowed to enter my courters or attend to me directly-”

         No, he did not call her here for motherly advice.

         “But Al-"she began, though is immediately cut off.

         “I have not finished talking!” The Masked Man’s voice rose and Ayola was stunned by his increasing cold and harsh demeanor as he spoke each word. Her eyes began to sting and her throat burned and constricted.“I want you to stay as far away from me as possible,” he continued, “You already know the rest of my requirements. I am simply reminding you. And if you dare go against them, you will be punished.”

         Ayola nodded immediately as she shook in her place. She understood very well what it would mean if she didn’t comply with his commands. He is that far gone, and Ayola would never forgive herself for that.“Yes, master,” she almost whispered.

         “You may now leave,” he demanded.

         Just as Ayola turned to leave, she heard it. It was as faint as a whisper, but she had heard it, “Sorry my Yola.” She smiled as she heard the use of her name. She hadn’t been addressed as that since The Masked Man was just a boy, back then he was just an innocent child, now nothing is left, and what awaits him is a nightmare the he helped create. Ayola closed the door and began to shed the tears she hadn’t shed since the existence of The Masked Man. Ayola was a strong minded woman, but when it came to him, she is always brought to pieces, but this time he had broken her. She did not stop crying until she reached her room.

         Back in the dim lit room The Masked Man stood before the window and it wasn’t long before he felt the presence of someone at the door.

         “I thought you had gone,” The Masked Man said grimly.

         “Yes well, I thought this should be brought to your attention since you’re my best mate, and how its important and all, should I tell you?” The Tall Man says with a smile.

         “Carry on,” The Masked Man says without turning away from the window.

         “It has begun.” The Tall Man responds.

         The Masked Man continues to look out the window and crosses his hands over his chest while letting out a sigh. “Beautiful, what do you think, my friend, mask or no mask?”

To be continued in Chapter One: The Beginning

© Copyright 2012 Charlie Florence (dontgogental at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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