Chapter 1 - Our Condolences

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The fire scorched the world, the dead were piled up in masses, and the water ran red with blood. But, at the centre, one demonic being sat on their throne of bone and death, a crown made of blood. That demon may have sort of been me 500 years ago. The human race was destroyed, and the world was crushed under my boot.

Now I know what you're thinking: this is a strange place to start the story, and well, you see, any good story needs what's called a grip. It needs to start with something so eye-catching that, out of nowhere, it makes the reader want to read on. Nothing says a sentence starter like the end of the world.

But I'm getting too ahead of myself. Now that I have your attention, I must admit I lied. This isn't how the story started—not in the slightest. If I've offended you in any possible way, I'm not sorry. I love skipping straight to the best of a story; believe me, that is to come. So I suppose I should start like any good story at the beginning. Did you think we were going to start at the end?

My story begins much closer to the present, two years ago, on just any ordinary day as the last. However, this would also be the day I die.

How's that for a story opener?

****

"Our condolences."

"Our dearest condolences."

"Master Kronos, deepest condolences."

"Condolences, Master Kronos, our utmost condolences."

"What did that word even mean... condolences, condolences," I whisper to myself, hand clenched tightly. There she was, my mother slowly lowered into the ground, nothing more than a fleeting memory with nothing to show.

Lowering my head, I kept hearing the other attending chatting. I didn't know anyone here; we weren't known as a well-established family. They weren't even trying to hide it, though; my condolences? Give me a fucking break; all these vultures were just waiting for the moment to take her estate and riches.

Clumps of dirt fell from my fingers, spreading across her coffin as the burial began. There was no one there to comfort me or tell me everything would be ok. Nothing like that, just the cold mud separating me and the remaining family I had left. Clenching my teeth, I held back my tears, cursing under my breath. "I hate you. Leaving me here alone with these strangers. I really hate you."

"Hate you."

I turned around suddenly, startled. The echo, no whisper. Rain began trickling around, dampening the mood altogether. The slime and money-grubbing vultures quickly deported a slight drizzle of water, enough to stop showing their condolences. I wasn't joining them, glancing back to the grave and giving up.

"Really hate you."

"What?" I heard the whisper behind me; slowly turning, I stopped attending to my Butler's call.

"Master Kronos, come on. You'll catch a cold if you—what in the... Master Kronos, there's not a drop on you."

He was right. The rain was pouring down, but I was bone dry, unlike my Butler. Not a drop, not a splash. I looked up at the dreary sky, speechless. I was out in the entirely open; I should be drenched. Instead, it was like something or someone was covering me.

"It does not matter; come now, Master Kronos, let us return home."

"Home. Yes, I suppose there's nothing else but my prison." I sigh, walking with him to the car. Nothing changed; the mood, the dread, the anger still lingering at the back of my mind.

"Let's go. Home."

The limo felt a little more empty than before being here alone. The stale carpet and washed-out windows trapped me in a soulless box, taking me from one hell to another. The only saving grace was the journey back; the window, my portal to another world, was all I would get of the outside world for a long time. I was the last of my family now; it would be as my damned Father would say.

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