Thirty Eight

Thirty-eight

"Master," a petite lady with a French braid entered, bowing to the man in a black cloak fearfully. The room was eerie, silent, and cold chill, which gave the lady cautious goosebumps.

The man's fluttered eyelashes opened, showing his red demonic eyes as he rested on a throne-like chair. The castle he created for his subjects. A camouflage from fog which he used to build this castle underground by using black magic. If his subjects or followers could actually see beneath the camouflage was a crumbled abandoned mansion.

"Yeah," he tapped his fingers on the armchair, humming in response, fitting the dark shadow; no one has seen his face except some selected people.

"We made the hallucination portion," the young black witcher informed him, showing him the small portion they'd been working on.

"Good," he praised, showing his black rotten teeth as he stretched his rotten decaying hand forward to collect the portion. He stared at it before returning to the witch, "I heard th