That was bloody awful. As he opened his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief as he recognised his surroundings. The sea spray stung his face, the wind whistling ferociously past him, tugging at his long black coat. His normal choice of outfit for the occasion. See, he didn't really consider himself a ghost. Preferring the name spirit as it made him sound cooler. But that is what he was essentially...a spirit hitman for the higher beings. He could morph, and that was fine with him.
With coat tails trailing, he headed off towards the shining, golden trimmed, iron door which stood alone at the end of the path of rocks, standing alone in the dark, black water of the worlds.
His Italian shoes made clicking thuds as he made his way to the front of the door. It stood completely on its own, nothing behind it but the menacing water and nothing to the sides. He didn't even knock. They would of known he was coming. They always know.
Sure enough, no sooner had he stopped in front of the door. It unlocked with a shunt and then slowly, intimidatingly swung open with an unusual hydraulic sound like a cricket thrown into a blender.
Calmly he stepped through the door, leaving the cold wind whistling behind him. He through a hand in front of his eyes as he was struck with blinding white light. He could feel the warmth tingling his papery skin like a candle. It felt like he was glowing as the energy restored in his body, flexing his fingers gently he quickly regained the nerves in each, not like he needed them though. Slowly the blinding light retreated from his vision and he glanced around at the room he found himself in. Just as usual, ten large stone chairs circled him, with each resting on a different colored plinth, some of bronze and others of jade and beige. On each chair sat a figure, embroidered in different garments and jewelry.
Recalling on his last visit here, he recounted that there was really only five that spoke and had any importance, on the right of the middle chairs there, slumped in his seat with a maroon plinth, sat the god named Lucius. He was the lord of light, but he was narrow minded and always plotted dark plans to overthrow the others, or so he guessed. Lucius had bright white hair which floated past his shoulders in dead straight lines, he was tall and had an arrogant face, sharp eyes and nose. His mouth was twisted in a sneer as he looked at him. Then to his right on a bright blue chair with an even bluer plinth perched Alissandria. The goddess of the spirits. She over ruled the sprites and ghosts of the immortal worlds, where apparently time was of no concern, she looked like she was in the peak of her life, but she was actually thousands of years old. Her bronze hair was tightened in a platted bob behind her head, with elegant curly entrails twisting down past her neck. Her face remained expressionless as she watched him enter through the door.
On the far left of the middle chairs their sat a god known as Orox, he was a lively lord who controlled the planets of the millions of galaxies surrounding them. He was a giant of a man. With a long large beard of red, with a smiling face and twinkling eyes. He watched him enter with an expression of amusement and interest. He had a good laugh every now and again and Orox was the only God he liked much at all. Then, shifting his gaze to the right, he spied Null. Null was a jet black hooded man, slouching in his jet black chair on, balancing on its jet back plinth. He was a cold, fearsome god. He was lean, and his fingers were outstretched, repeatedly fingering his dark ring which sat on the arm of his chair, sending up sharp puffs of black smoke which encircled him.
Then in the centre of the chairs sat the king of them. Helios. He wore a dazzling shining silver chest plate, accompanied by a gun metal grey hammer which stood embedded in the stone in front of him. He was tall, with glinting eyes and sharp cheekbones and a mouth which was angle to one side. On his head stood a crown of sharp, glowing metal points and he watched him step through the doorway with an unreadable expression, which made him slightly uncomfortable.
They watched him as he approached the centre stone in the circle, and once he got there with a click of his sharp italian shoes, there was along silence until finally Alissandria spoke.
