The Monopoly Man looked ready to speak again, but Mayor Corleone quickly cut him off, regaining control of the room. “Apologies for Dr. Wilbur’s impatience. We’re all a little on edge today.” The mayor wiped the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and David, growing more confused by the second, couldn’t help but wonder what had them so anxious—and more importantly, what it had to do with him.

“We’re different, David,” the mayor said, his voice more deliberate now.

“How?” David asked, his confusion mounting.

“Well, for starters... we’re not originally from here.”

“Here? What do you mean by that? Like we’re not from—"

But before David could finish his question, a deafening boom shook the hall, rattling its very foundations. The marvellous windows shattered into countless shards of colourful glass. David froze, utterly dumbfounded by something—a being? An animal emerged from one of the now-empty window spaces. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing, but he was certain it wasn’t human.

With massive golden horns curving outward from the parts of its head that were meant to house its eye and a spear clutched tightly in its clawed hand, the winged beast screeched so loudly that it snapped David out of his brief trance, and before he could react, the monster hurled its spear straight at David's chest.

In a blur of motion, the Monopoly Man flung his staff, intercepting the spear just inches from David. The staff struck the ground with a sharp clang and stood upright as if held by an invisible force.

“Go with the Mayor, now!” the Monopoly Man shouted, his speed and agility surprising David. In a swift display of athleticism, he retrieved his staff, which had absorbed some of the town hall floor and now had a pointed tip. Without hesitation, he hurled it again, the weapon tearing through the monster—and the next one, which had just entered through the shattered window. “Go!” he roared as his staff returned to his hand, dripping with blood.

The mayor, having recovered from the shock, was already dragging David towards the exit. “There’s a lot you need to know, but they won’t even give us time,” he muttered, his pace urgent.

“Who’s ‘they’? What’s going on?” David demanded as they burst into the parking lot on the far side of the building. “And what the hell are those things?”

“David, get yourself together!” The mayor snapped, his tone sharp but not unkind. “I know you’ve got questions—anyone would—but look around you. Is this really the time? We don’t even know how many of those creatures are out here!”

“I don’t care!” David shouted in a frantic voice. “Just tell me what’s happening!”

The mayor stopped abruptly, spinning to face David. “I know you’re hurt and confused. The entire town sympathises with you. Experiencing the loss of your parents and little Amanda in such a bizarre accident is heartbreaking.

“Leave my sister out of this,” David whispered, his voice trembling. Tears he had fought for so long finally broke free, streaming down his cheeks. “She didn’t deserve to...” His voice caught in his throat as he pulled out a handkerchief, hastily wiping his face. He turned, stepping away from the mayor, as if trying to outrun the weight of his grief.

The mayor's voice softened. “You need to talk about it sooner or later, David.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Go home.”

David shot him a disbelieving look.

“Your driver’s here, and there’s a guest waiting for you,” the mayor continued. “He’ll explain everything. So go home now.

Out of the corner of his eye, David saw his black limo pulling up. Despite the chaos and confusion in his world, David believed he could trust the council. Hadn’t they protected him? He wasn’t entirely convinced he had been the target, and a faint sense of relief washed over him as he slipped into the vehicle, leaving the town hall behind.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The fleeting relief he had gotten from the weed high moments earlier was gone, but the adrenaline from all that transpired after still coursed through his veins. He made a mental note to steer clear of town meetings in the future.

Since Amanda's death, the De la Cruse mansion has lost its charm and its warmth. Once a place he had counted down the days to return to during his boarding school holidays, it now felt cold and distant—a hollow reminder of what once was.

“Master David,” Bennet greeted, his voice croaky but warm as he welcomed his young lord home. “Your uncle stopped by while you were out,” he added, his words slow and measured. “How was the meeting? You're home early, and it was supposed to go until noon. You didn’t do anything crazy, did you, sire?”

David brushed past the old butler, barely acknowledging him as he rushed into the house. As soon as he stepped inside, he could hear laughter echoing through the halls. The chandeliers swayed gently, and the louvres rattled with the sound. His eyes darted around, scanning the living room and study area. There was no sign of the so-called uncle, yet the laughter seemed to be coming from everywhere at the same time.

Bennet, trailing behind, offered helpfully, “He’s in the kitchen, sire.”

“The kitchen? What’s he doing there?” David muttered, changing direction. The closer he got, the louder the laughter became. His mouth fell open in disbelief as he entered the kitchen.

There, in front of him, sat an absolute giant of a man, tossing Skittles into the air and chuckling every time he managed to catch one in his mouth. Judging by the mess scattered across the floor, it wasn’t a particularly successful endeavour.

“What... the... fuck?!”

The giant man caught the final skittle in his mouth, smiling as he turned his attention to David. Before speaking, he studied him for a second or two. "Now, Tharion, that’s no way to greet your long-lost uncle, is it?" He asked with a grin so jovial it felt almost out of place. Standing up, the man easily cleared seven feet—maybe eight, or even nine. David wasn’t sure if he was human. This was the kind of guy NFL franchise owners would go to war over. David felt a pang of sympathy for the kitchen stool, now visibly disfigured under the giant’s weight. "And, Bennet, you've been a tremendous help, but you can head to your quarters and rest. Grab a lozenge while you're at it," the man added, waving dismissively at the butler.

David watched in bewilderment as Bennet, his trusted butler, obediently stumbled away. Who was this man? ... What was this man? Where had he been all this time? And who the hell was Tharion?

"Now, I know your head’s probably spinning with questions," the giant said, his voice calm but urgent. "I've got answers, but we need to go." He grabbed a massive leather jacket that could only belong to him and headed toward the door. "Now."

"Who are you?" David demanded, his feet planted firmly. "I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers about what the hell is going on."

The giant, Scathrope, let out a sigh as he introduced himself. "You can call me Scath. And your dad—" His sentence ended mid-speech, his battle instincts kicking in. Scath sensed danger before it arrived, hearing the screech moments before a creature crashed through the kitchen window, spear in hand, saliva dripping from its mouth. The saliva sizzled on contact with the floor, burning small holes.

David, utterly exhausted by the chaos of the day, barely had the energy to react. But he didn’t need to. The biggest shock of the day was yet to come. With a loud boom, the creature’s torso exploded, jagged crystals of ice protruding through its body as it slumped onto the dining table, dead.

David spun around to find Bennet—his lifelong butler—holding a futuristic-looking gun straight out of a sci-fi movie.

"No one enters De la Cruse mansion without my authorisation," Bennet said coldly, flicking his white hair out of his eyes with a calm precision that belied the chaos. He looked... completely badass.

"Yes! Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!" Scath shouted, jumping up in excitement. A couple of fine china plates tumbled from the shelves, shattering on the floor. "Oops," he chuckled. "You’re the man, Benny. The bloody man!"

"David," Bennet said, tossing the gun aside and walking toward him. "Your future awaits, my boy. Do not be afraid—always remember that."

"I don’t... understand," David stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "I really don’t get any of this."

"I know, my boy," Bennet said softly. "But you can’t stay here anymore. You have to return home."

"But... this *is* home," David said, his head spinning, his hand reaching out for support. Scath caught him as he collapsed backward, his consciousness fading.

"You’re a good man, Bennet," Scath said, gently lowering David to the ground. "You've always been. Thanks for being there for Tharion."

"You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, sir," Bennet replied, his voice steady. "He’s a smart lad. He’ll adapt."

"He has to," Scath replied, his tone grave.