Tik, tok, tik, tok, tik, tok…
The clock, ticking every second, ticking in motion with my hands, the hands that are signing these papers in my desk.
Papers they were, deeds to lands, deeds to workshops, reports of cashflow, income, people, and… everything. These papers are the key to the kingdom, and I am holding to the kingdom as every single thing is written down by my command.
Because of this, I dive myself into it, became drunk on staring at letters, fonts, symbols and tiny quirks people put with their pen into the paper.
Nothing could break me of this trance, nothing, nothing…
Knock, knock…
It broke, the slight gentle, yet firm knock in front of me broke my trance.
But it was a whiplash, I could feel my neck tensed up, veins thickening, and nerves stimulating. For what? For the one who is knocking my door.
I rose from my seat, squeaking it as I made its legs scratches the marble floor of my office. I then step towards my door, passing by the two soft red sofa by making slight swerving and funny body angles to not be in contact.
Then I finally were there on the door, waiting, weirdly. I don’t know why, but… something felt off, I feel like I am about to let in a monster, a danger to me, a nightmare that won’t ever leave.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But I couldn’t take it, the knocking was continues, never stopped, had even a rhythm to it. A nice pattern that didn’t break, yet… being so close now, hearing it so loudly now, vexed me.
So I opened door and was greeted with a fist right to my face.
“My, my, my… so you really do open the door!” As I was propelled back by his punch, he mocked me. “Mind if I come in, Martyn?” And then I saw him, with a face I knew very well, with a smile I knew very well, with eyes… that only belongs to me.
He then leaped at me, with hands shaped already like a fist, ready to deal more blows.
I put on my guard as he was over me, trying to not give him the satisfaction to destroy my face. But his punches were just overwhelming, as every single swing he launched at my guard, my hands, felt like I was being hit with steel beams.
I… I couldn’t endure it and pathetically slip up and got a hit on the face again.
“Come HERE!” After that he then grabbed my collar and lifted my up high.
I was exhausted, tired from the beating, pained and bruised in the face. But I could see him more clearly now, his face, his mouth, his skin, his nose, his white hair, and his purple eyes, me…
“Now tell me this Martyn Wulf, you annoying sad piece of shit, why the fuck did you tell Eleanna?!” He asked, that…
“You know why, you know that we had to come clean!”
“Coming clean?! You seriously saying believe I would believe that? No, no, no… you, you!” He then threw me to the walls. “SHE IS OUR EVERYTHING AND YOU THREW IT AWAY!”
“She… is our everything.” I stood back up. “But it doesn’t mean shit if we’re living in a lie, no… living in fear, in fear…” I realized something…
“Fear? What do we have to fear from El?”
“…” I was silent, I don’t know what to answer, but I could feel the answer, it’s right there, on the tip of my tongue… “That she would hate us-”
“We fear that with Arthur and the others.” He cut me off.
“And that we would be her trigger to not believing again.” I found it.
“…” He was silent, but soon replaced with anger again as he grabbed my neck now. “We… we helped her! WE ARE THE VERY REASON THAT SHE CAN BELIEVE, WE… we… AGHHHHH!!!!”
He threw me back down again, threw me hard to the point the marble floors cracked slightly, while he… me… was crying.
“Why the hell did we have to take a leek that day… why the fuck did that maid point the bathroom to Ruith’s room… why… why is this happening…” He was defeated.
“I don’t know… I never asked for this too, but… this is a good thing.” When he heard the last part, it struck a nerve in him.
“A… I’m sorry, a good thing?”
“Y-yeah! You do know that we can’t keep having whatever that was with El-”
“SHUT UP!” He grabbed my neck again.
“We… can’t live… in… egg... she-”