The hubbub of the market place broke into the house as the door opened, only to be quieted again with the sound of the flimsy wooden door being forced into its ill fitting frame. A series of footsteps followed as the arrival came up the stairs and into the room proper. The girl who was brushing her hair at the battered vanity table acknowledged the entry without turning from the mirror.
“Why must you live in such a noisy place?”
“It isn’t exactly my first choice” the shadowy figure replied, placing on the table, first his bow and then a bag. Its contents solid yet issued a soft thud as he set it down and it oozed some ruddy liquid that stained the bottom of the sack darker as it emitted a foul odour. The smell was tolerable, for the fact that outside, the vendors’ stalls and street urchins smelled worse, the bustling activity of sweaty bodies and excrement from the carriage horses or even the poor. The raw meats and fish that the vendors sold, their juices running thick to mingle with the rotten fruits and vegetables to make into a very distinct and very unpleasant slurry. But to Lucille the girl, it was a part of the life here and a view of the world outside the Palace which she rather enjoyed and found exciting, a stark difference to the clean and pristine she was accustomed too. So she had no qualms with the smell of the raw meat that her accomplice brought, even though it did drown the scent of old oak from his furniture which she enjoyed. Despite all these alien sensations, smells and the colourful language filtering in from outside, she felt completely safe and at home here, as she had every other time she had run away and come here.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
The man continued to unload various items and basic supplies. Once he was done he placed atop the pile a single rose. Vibrant, red and stunning as it was laid down in the ray of sunshine coming in from the window.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Lucille said, seeing it in the mirror, she went to turn but stopped half way as her attention was caught elsewhere “it’s the exact same shade as…” she trailed off as she excitedly grabbed at some lip colouring and applied it, making exaggerated puckering faces into the mirror. The man watched contently from his vantage point, enjoying her company, there had been no need for formalities or explanations. She turned up while he was out and the elderly lady who ran the stall below had let her in, Lucille had waited for him to get home and now they found them selves here in mutual happiness.
“What do you think?” she asked turning and giving him a smile that showed off the new colour, her lips were resplendent in the red, the same shade as the rose, a perfect accompaniment to her pale face, framed by her luscious golden curls.
The man stepped forward to admire Lucille. His face was heavily shrouded within his hood, but the sunlight caught something regardless. The gold beam with all the dust and particles so perfectly held to make a glistening spotlight. Reflected deep within his hood, glaringly off the clunky metal mask he wore. The steel a poor imitation of a human’s features, making the tranquil serenity of the light a harsh beacon for his attentions in the mirror. There he stood, eyes cast between the delicate girl and his own reflection where even in the seclusion of his shadowy hood he could still make out the ruined flesh around his eyes. The silence in the room accentuated his heavy rasping breaths.
The monster, Rancid stared down at the young girl and said “Beautiful” before retreating into his dark room, his secluded sanctuary from the outside.