“My Lord, everything is in order, ” informed the spindly butler who had his head hung low whilst standing behind the Master’s back. Part of him wanted not to interrupt the man, another part of him wanted to fulfill his job. The Master of the Rantzen Clan was after all doing some...important stuff. No one would dare interrupt this moment including him, but on this occasion, he just had to.
The one addressed didn’t so much as flinch a brow as he continued his work. He stood at the balcony of his chamber dressed in a full robe as black as obsidian with the night sky and the sea of stars accompanying him.
A few feet away, swirls of what looked like feathery clouds rose up on command of his hands. It almost looked like it would disappear with the darkness of the sky, but then it swooshed down to a long staff that housed the sharpest curved blade.
On command of his hands again, the feathery clouds entered inside the blade like a genie to its lamp. Not one feather was left midair and when all was sucked by the weapon, an eerie sound of the dying was heard clearly by the butler. It was almost as if a parting gift to the world.
“The...the Basilica de Santa Ana is already booked, Sire, ” the butler started again shakily. “The...the caterers are reserved, the vicar has confirmed his attendance, and the...flowers—”
“Flowers?” the Master cut in and arched a refined brow. The word definitely delivered a sharp sting to his ears.
The butler took a step back and cleared his throat.
“Y—yes, my Lord, flo—wers. All one hundred thousand of fresh red roses. They will be shipped before—”
“I’m sure you already know I hate flowers, Norman, ” the Master reminded and then just before he turned to face the butler, his obsidian robe evaporated like black smoke and in its place yoga pants and a shirt the color of black appeared.
“Yes, uhm, but it’s in your list, my Lord, ” the butler named Norman dared to look up and meet the icy-cold gaze of his master. “Should—should I cancel them?”
Bare feet hit the marbled flooring of the balcony when the Master neared his butler. He chewed on his words, weighed the consequences and reminded himself it was for a certain special someone. After a few seconds past a low uninhibited groan from deep within his throat, he replied.
“No, go ahead.”
The butler felt as if a thorn was pulled out of his gut. He smiled, although it was just a small one, and then went on just as the Master walked past him and into the inner room.
“Oh, well then, l’ll continue, my Lord. The band had confirmed the date, the Rantzen Estate will be decorated according to your specifications, the five-tier cake design is already finalized exactly as you want it, and your ticket going to the City of Germaine is on your desk, my Lord.”
The Master stopped just in front of the hearth and stared at the thinning embers.
“Good, ” he said. “Anything else to report?”
“Nothing, my Lord, ” the butler replied, his eyes cast downward again.
“Then you are dismissed.”
“Well, uhm, may...may I speak my Lord?”
What, in Hades name, encouraged the butler to ask such was beyond the Master. He knew he was intimidating without even trying—it came with the job after all—and he knew the butler was too obedient to want to speak for himself.
It was a mystery and certainly a change, but he admired the courage of the butler.
“Go ahead, ” he said in the end.
“You see, I am, well...”
A tick on the Master’s jaw appeared, disliking the clumsiness of his butler’s words.
“Spill it Norman, ” he barked, now looking at him.
Norman paled but knowing his Master, he braved himself after hauling a good amount of air in his lungs.
“I speak on behalf of the whole clan, my Lord.”
Ah, there it was. The answer.
Nobody could actually brainwash his most trusted butler into questioning him except the family members themselves.
“Your orders seem to look like there will be a wedding, my Lord. Well, uhm, the clan wishes to know who...is...getting mar...ried?” Norman asked, his voice thinning to a whisper, still unsure whether his audacity to ask the question was wise. But it was too late to back out now. The Master of the Rantzen Clan had his undivided attention on him.
“You said my ticket going to Germaine is ready?” he asked, a little tingle in his chest surfacing.
“Yes, my Lord, ” the butler nodded.
“Then prepare the plane. I shall leave immediately. It is time for me to pick up my bride.”
Nimbus clouds covered the whole sky as a majestic lightning cracked through it. A roaring, rumbling sound followed. It was deafening to the ears, but one man sprawled on the grassy ground, covered in filth and blood didn’t so much as care.This man was named Jacob Arnold St. Fair. He only cared one thing and that was his family—his wife and daughter—probably sitting cozily inside their house just a few walk away, clueless of his current dire situation.He was just inside the tool shed at the back of their house when the heavy rain started. The plan was to ditch what work he had left of the customized dog house and run as fast as he could to the main house, be with his family, and enjoy the evening meal together.However, an unexpected visitor standing and waiting for him at the entrance of the tool shed exactly interrupted that plan.The visitor had a hulking frame, wearing a baseba
“He...y, ” Jacob groaned through his blood-soaked mouth. He watched as the Grim Reaper paused from his tracks seemingly listening to his voice.“Hey! He...re! Look...here!”The Grim Reaper looked down into the poor state of his caller and arched a brow feeling genuinely surprised.“You can see me, human?” he asked.“You’re a grim rea...per, ” Jacob stated, disregarding his question. “You...you mu...st be from that clan.”The sentence definitely hit a nerve. ‘How?’ the Grim Reaper thought. How could a normal man know of a clan of grim reapers? It was supposed to be a well-guarded secret, unless...Unless this man wasn’t that normal as he thought at first.Halpas—the half-baked demon man—tried to kill him after all. Maybe, there was more to this
(Fifteen years later...)Death had always fascinated humans around the world. It holds a certain kind of mystery nobody could describe. What does one experience when one dies? What happens when the soul leaves the body? Will there be an unknown universe waiting for the soul? Or a messenger perhaps? An angel who would guide the soul in the Afterlife?Death may most always tie-up with sadness and agony but yes, people still regard it as a fascinating phenomenon.Be it in whatever religion, gender, age, social status, and race, a person most likely welcomes the thought of death and dying at least once in their lifetime. Fear it, accept it, or ignore it, death is the one thing that is...“... constant in the ever-changing world, ” Solene finished and then twisted her lips. She stared at the sentence longer than any geek would and munched on the lesson it was trying to relay.<
“You’re late, ” an old man sitting on a couch pointed out the moment Solene walked through the front door. For a seventy-five-year-old senior, he still had a thick mass of gray hair and could still walk properly without the aid of a cane.Solene dipped her head shyly and approached her grandfather.“Sorry pops. I’m on a tight schedule with my school work.” She stooped low and placed a quick kiss on his forehead.Her grandfather cringed.“Seriously, you’re the only college student I know who goes to the library almost every day, ” he commented.Solene didn’t see it as a complaint though. She just chuckled and walked towards a bookshelf near the kitchen.“All part of a student life pops, ” she answered whilst placing her newly acquired books on the shelf.“Bah!&rd
The next day, Solene took her little brother in the local supermarket for a quick shop of produce and fresh fruits. She parked her mother’s SUV first near the entrance of the supermarket and hand-in-hand, they walked inside the building with an eco bag in hand.Solene picked the biggest wheeled grocery basket so that her brother could ride inside it. They entered into the Candy and Chocolate’s Section first by AC’s insistence. Solene didn’t mind as she also loved to buy her favorite chocolate-covered macadamia nuts.It was past nine in the morning on a Friday so the local supermarket was filled with customers. Some were together with their families and some others were buying alone.On their way into the C and C Section, Solene noticed a commotion some distance away. It was the manager of the supermarket arguing with the delivery men about the late deliveries. She just shrugged her shoulders, seei
By afternoon, despite her conscience telling her otherwise, Solene braved herself to leave the house. She had only one goal in mind and it was to go to the library and ask Dally for a copy of the log records yesterday.She remembered the time when she had seen the man inside the library. She knew how to focus her search and oust those names which were students of the University. She could narrow her search down to his name — whatever name he had — and possibly try and track down his address.By the time Solene arrived in the library, there were only a handful of students in sight, mostly men taking their IT major. Dally was in her usual counter, busily sorting out piles of magazines.“Hey Dally,” Solene greeted, showing a soft smile.“Oh, back so soon?” Dally looked at her from behind thick-rimmed glasses and smiled back.“Yeah, I need to
With a strong conviction to hunt for the truth, Solene decided to visit the supermarket and ask to see the security camera of the building, specifically while the tremors happened.There was footage found, yes, but it only showed pictures before the shaking started. Solene couldn’t be more disappointed when the video stopped right when she and AC were about to approach the Nutella shelf.‘A technical malfunction,’ the manager explained, but Solene didn’t buy it. It was damn too coincidental. Something in her gut told her it was intentional. As to why and who did it were the two questions that filled her mind.Ultimately, she returned to her house with more questions than answers, and those lingered until the next day.Early in the morning, Solene met with her thesis partner and best friend, Myrna — a redhead with a short bob and thick lashes. They chose the
“Okay, let’s pick up where we stopped,” Myrna stated once they settled onto their seats. This time, they chose the University library to finish their planning instead of anywhere outside the school.After the incident they experienced that morning, Solene returned to the house to change clothes. She had coaxed her best friend not to visit the hospital. She didn’t need it when really nothing had happened to her. Myrna told her she had an insane amount of luck, but Solene just shrugged the statement off. Clearly, her best friend knew nothing of her growing fear.“We were about to make the second draft of our thesis, Myr,” she reminded, getting comfy with her chosen wingback chair.The latter puckered her lips and grinned.“Oh, so you really were paying attention to me other than just checking that stranger in the cafe.”Solene rolled