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The Gaze of Hate Itself

Francis Danes knew he wouldn’t be leaving this building, it was a fabled graveyard ever since the fall of Arivon the world had changed. He had made an enemy, one he shouldn’t have. When he had seen the men tailing him he knew it was over, they were sent by the fallen shadows, shady Organizations all over the world were attempting to rise to power but this one was the undisputed leader of them all. They were never seen in public but the things they had done were world renowned they were the face of change…….without even showing their faces, they lead the world with fear, their word was final.

And that’s why Francis Danes knew he was going to die he was a snitch selling other peoples secrets to anyone who would listen, for any price and the organization had found out, even worse they had found out that he had spoken about them. He was lead down the hallway by two men both in dark suits and overcoats looking serious and sinister at the same time, they both stopped in front of a large oak door nodded and each pushed the side they were on. Francis passed hesitantly through the door way, this room was a short path with pillars each side lining the walls opening into a cylinder chamber, in the centre stood a throne like chair, the lighting was to dim for frank to make out its occupant .

“Come forward” the voice was rasped and sounded like it was being muffled Frank obeyed moving further into the room.

Closer” it continued

“i…i..err i would like to apologise….“ Frank stuttered put of by the realisation that the man in the chair held a sword in his left hand and with each step closer he became acutely aware he was reaching cutting distance ”sir, I can assure you the information i gave them was false it had nothing to do with the orb..”

“SILENCE” the man screamed launching himself forward, Francis backed as far away as possible avoiding a possible sword stroke not realising the figure had moved with eerie speed not going for a swing but had stabbed out pushing the blade through Francis’ chest. Looking up he realised why the voice was muffled and also why no-one could ever pick out the man in charge of the Organization. His face was hidden behind an empty white featureless mask. He didn’t speak just stared through the eye holes staring into his soul, he knew his life was over when he walked through the door though he had never felt this kind of fear before. Those eyes didn’t show hatred for Francis or what he’d done but hatred for everything and a view from a man that was going to change the world forever, as he coughed up blood and slowly fell to the ground he still held his grip on those cold and empty eyes and secretly thanked god that he wasn’t going to live to see what this man would do to the world…….

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