I slowly open my eyes, only to be met with a sharp shivering feeling translating from top to bottom of my body. The deep voided ocular lenses pierced through my very being every passing second. Mr. Plague clenched his hands in an upright manner with his elbows resting on both sides of his out of place exquisite chair. I can tell he was waiting for me to accept his offer of the freshly poured whiskey he laid on the miniature table between us both. I’d glance at it every so often to give him a façade of interest, only to trick a false sense of power over me, but would never pick it up. I need him to think he has complete control. Over these past few months, I’ve understood the severity of harm these ghoulish freaks have over us, but I need them to doubt that very notion. Sam isn’t here right now to give me more advice on his character. He most likely sent her on some errand for that very reason, so it just leaves two of us in this decrepit cabin. The air is tense at the moment, but to be fair that’s mostly on me. If I had the chance to easily take his life, I would. Sebastian didn’t deserve that grizzly death he set him up for. Although it leaves a nagging curiosity at the back of my mind till this day.
did he get Sebastian killed? Did he
figure something out he shouldn’t have?
“You have not touched your drink in some time, Donovan.” He finally presses me. “I presumed you favored whiskey.”
“You’re right.” I respond quickly, “Just not from you.”
He gives the half empty glass a look. “Well now, this particular brand is aged 473 years. I am not too fond of partaking in alcoholic consumption, so I have just kept it until I could find a good use for it. I do not think it is polite to discard gifts.”
I couldn’t restrain myself from giving off a wincing face. The slow-burning attitude he’s giving off is actually doing more of upsetting me than the offer of the drink itself. Over time I’ve come to better understand more and more of how he goes about deciphering me. He’ll say something accurately keen on causing a sort of reaction. Sam warned me of his tactful ways of dissecting people’s mind through slick inconspicuous conversations. In some kind of fucked up way, I can admire his level of skill for it. As a detective, that level of flawless talent of mindfully coursing someone’s behavior with precise actions is astounding.
“I must come forward,” His sudden way of speaking and forward slouched caught me off guard. “I did not summon you here for idle small talk. I am a very busy being with a growing clientele with varying requests.”
“Ho! Your humor never ceases. No…no, I called you to inform you of your actual role. Or…job title if you are more comfortable with calling it.”
“To locate anything I need you too.”
I’m not sure what he means by it, but I have a hunch. “Locating is somewhat in my expertise…but why?” I asked. “Out of everyone in the world, why am I the one you pick?”
“Oh, it was only out of convenience. You are nothing too special that I have not seen before. A very good thing with you though…is attraction.”
“Attraction? Is that some sort of way of you coming on to me?”
“Hoho, no, no, I do not delve in that concept. I see it very beneath me. No, you have a certain…gift. People are drawn to you Donovan. From my world to yours, people find you interesting. That is why I need you at this moment.”
My stomach churned as we went on a tangent about me. The thought of having equally deranged freaks looking for me is setting my head in a spin, while feeling like I’m sinking deeper and deeper in this hell scape. “There isn’t possibly anything that interesting about me…” I said slightly stammering. If I had the power to control sweat, I use every power of it to keep in noticeable to him. The act of saving face is fading the more I realize that there are more powerful and sadistic people like him in his circle. I vowed to put an end to this, to end this cycle of madness infecting my city, my world…my family. But how? How can someone stop a force beyond them, beyond their comprehension? Sebastian knew the answer. I know that’s why he got rid of him.
“Oh no, there are plenty that makes you interesting. Although…I fear certain someone has caught word of your existence now…”
“I’m sure he’ll be fun to converse with.”
“You are scared…and it is okay to be.”
He figured me out.
I can’t really hide it at this point. I hadn’t noticed that my left hand was gripping the arm rest noticeably too hard. Sweat touched my chin and fell. I never became this nervous. There’s something with him that puts me in some extreme emotional condition. This psychological game I wanted to test him in was beyond pointless. The fact that I can’t even see his face just puts him miles ahead of me. I’m nervous now, and all I could do was bask in it. No, I at least can ask questions. The most important one of them being, who is looking for me?
“Can I ask who exactly is taking their time out to find me?” I finally asked.
“If I am not mistaken…he goes by Masquerade now.”
“Okay…so what’s his deal?”
He tilts his head up towards the lights. “Well, he has a fascination for knives and faces.”
“So...is he one of yours?”
“Sadly, yes. I hope to put a stop to his rampant sprees of collecting whatever he is so fond of…but that is where you come in. He will possibly be present at the annual ball that happens every century. You…will also be attending. That will be the perfect time for us to corner him.”
“Corner him…annual ball? I can already tell this is going to be the worst time in my life.”
“Hohoho! No, no…plenty worse are in route to you.”
As much as I would hate to believe it…I know he’s telling the truth…