Julius stood overlooking the great white marble obelisk.
It was pouring with rain, which trickled down the many layers of lichen clinging to the heavy monolith, but even in spite of its efforts the words emblazoned down its side like a scar were legible to the dark, errant figure gazing upon them.
He tilted his head slightly as his watch ran over the text scraped into that monument, blinking the rain out of his eyes. Even the purest of water fallen from the heavens could not cleanse the darkness from his eyes, so black they were it was as though they had been conceived from the depths of the ocean, born from the pure evil lurking In the deepest trenches known to man. They swallowed up the reflections of the ill-kempt obelisk and spat nothing out. Good. As they should.
The gentleman lowered his gaze, then turned on his heel. His Footsteps were sharp against the dense pitter patter of rain all around. He cared not that his suit were soaked through to the skin - It did not matter to him after all - as he made his way back down the garden path towards the house. A great monument to his time on earth it was.
The great mansion stood tall and silent as if infected with his murderous aura. Julius stepped over a toy horse just beyond the door, with a restrained sneer. Looking around for the perpetrator revealed noone, but he knew it belonged to his foolish eldest son. Whatever. He'd deal with them later.
YOU ARE READING
Time will tell
Historical FictionThe story starts in the dark, dangerous world of the British empire, at his peak. We get a glimpse into what makes him tick, and a look in on how his children lived before the many revolutions that led to his downfall, and the way everyone's history...
