Doppleganger: The Children

The Shrouded Demension

More and more people were refusing to obey the laws of the land. This was known by Cyrill Lannister, better known as the terrible tyrant of Sengrove. He ruled the small country with an Iron fist, and made every citizens life a living hell. At this time, they still had the right to torture and publicly humiliate anyone who rebelled. Cyrill became angry at the group of rebels, but what was he to do if he didn't know where to find them, let alone know how many there are. That was also a problem, Cyrill didn't want bodies stacking up in HIS courtyard, he wasn't a barbarian like his subjects. This got the middle aged man thinking, how could he get his revenge, and not have a mess? Cyrill thought the prisons as a merciful end, so it was out of the question. He pondered long and hard about the decision he was going to make, he could potentially kill half of his subjects, some of which were loyal to their last breath. He called his guard, and ordered that they escort the skilled young man he knew so well to the castle. With that, the guards marched to the boys home, explaining that he was needed at the castle, for the last time they encountered this particular boy, he brutally murdered 17 guards and calmly walked out of the castle with a grin on his face. "A first class psychopath" is what the locals described him as, and he loved it. "It fits me."
Felix was a polite young boy, helping his mother with household chores, and filling the role of the man of the house once he hit 5. At the age of 8, his mother died, but strangely, it didn't affect him. When one of his mothers friends came to console him, they asked what was wrong, as not crying must have been a sign of deeper trouble. "She wasn't my real mother." Felix bluntly said, looking the woman in the eyes, his cold stare meeting her hurt gaze. "What makes you say that dear?" The woman kneeled to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Because, my real father is the one who killed her." He stated flatly. "He hit her until she fell, then kept beating her with the fire poker. I didn't know until he told me, that he was my father. He got her blood on me when he touched my face." Felix continued, lightly running a finger over where the bloody handprint once was upon his cheek. He looked at the woman, terror in her eyes. "We didn't know you were here when it happened!" The woman began to ball, hugging Felix, as his 8 year old form fit perfectly into her chest. He felt like he was going to cry as well, but fought it off, remembering what his father said before he dropped the weapon and left. "What are you crying for? And wipe that look off your face, she wasn't your real mother anyway. You killed the woman that birthed you, and you killed this woman too. You're a cold blooded murderer, ever since you were born." Felix walked into the castle with the guards, whom were quite a distance away, fearful for their own safety. His eyes glowed a dull brown, almost coming off as a red. He carried himself like a soldier, nose held high, and chest poked out, like the superior he knew he was. They walked into the throne room, looking like something from medieval times, although it was only 2016. They all stopped, as Felix eyed the king, Cyrill,wondering what this man could possibly want besides revenge.
"What do you want?" The young boy asked, throwing some guards bearing off. Such rudeness towards the king was unheard of, at least in his presence.
Cyrill winced slightly at his words, causing a grin to sweep across the face of Felix. "You need something." He jingled, crossing his arms, his smile getting ever so larger. "My ears are open, but I come with a price."
Cyrill straightened himself in the chair, clearing his throat. "There are rebels among us, and I have no idea how to beat them." Cyrill admitted, and Felix knew that this hurt Cyrill to admit to such ignorance. "We need your help." Felix looked him in the eyes, not surprised by the proposition, but surprised by who offered it. "Why me?" He asked."After all I'm a child, you said so yourself. And now you want me to fight your battle?" He laughed under his breath, as he watched Cyrill squirm under the tension."What's in it for me?" A look of relief washed over the kings face as a glimmer of hope shined in his eye." Whatever you want." Cyrill said."I have vast amounts of money, I could get you anything." Cyrill smiled as he talked, thinking he could persuade Felix to help. "I don't want just anything." Felix said flatly. "When I come back with the leaders head, I'll tell you what I want, and if I don't get it, off with your head too." Felix said, his cold eyes once again burning a hole in the kings eyes. He turned and walked out, he shoes echoing off of the stone floor.

-3 DAYS LATER-

Felix strolled into the castle, covered in blood, but of course it wasn't his own. He had a satchel thrown over his shoulder as he started to whistle the tune "Mr.Sandman". He stopped at the edge of the red carpet, just as Cyrill entered the thrown room. The king was dressed in a robe, and slippers, and seemed to have been in a rush. "What-" The king stopped abruptly, looking at the bag Felix had, a steady trickle of blood from the sack leaving a path to where the boy stood.
Cyrill felt a sense of fear and anxiety, as he made his way to his thrown.
Felix stepped forward, pulling the satchel to his front and untieing the strings. "Heads up." He said before chucking the basketball shaped bag to Cyrill. He barely caught the bag, the impact causing blood to splatter everywhere.Cyrill could barely contain himself, tempted to run from the room and away from the psychopath standing in front of him with a demented grin on his face. The king hesitantly opened the bag, seeing the bloody face of the rebel leader. His scream got caught in his throat as his flail made the head go flying back to the boy. It rolled half out of the bag, an eye and mouth, twisted into a terrified look, peaked back at the boy. "You made a mess." The boy joked, laughing.
"I told you I would bring you his head, so now my reward." The boy said, his face quickly going from happy to demented, as if he was an entirely different person. "You didn't tell me what you wanted." The king said quietly, his monotone voice carrying the message to Felix. " I want access to the magic vault you have. And I want to pick whatever I want." His head tilted as he looked at the king. Cyrill knew that if he refused, he'd be dead before he's guards could raise their guns, they'd be dead before they could even touch their guns, but he knew that if he did what Felix wanted, then ,wherever he planned to go, would be in grave danger. "If I may ask, what is it you're looking for?" Cyrill probed carefully. "Whatever it is, it's none of your business." Felix responded harshly.
Then Cyrill did something he thought he would never do. "I want to know why first, or I'll have the castle blown to bits." Cyrill wagered. "How about this? One question each, then I'll let you get whatever you want, and however much you want." Felix raised an eyebrow, as Cyril's heartbeat was breaking out of his chest one beat at a time. "Ok." Felix said, eyebrows raised, he always loved bartering. "You want to know why I want access to the vault?" Felix specified. " Well, it's a long, complicated story, so I'll shorten it. This place isn't in danger, because I know that's what you fear, and I wouldn't dare end you and your reign. You're simply too much fun." He laughed, Cyrill had a cold gaze at him. "I need one of the ancient relics locked away in there, this world has gotten boring, and since you said however much I want, I'm going to browse for other things to help me on my journey." Felix finished with a smile, almost childlike. "Your turn." He taunted, leisurely walking to the different stands that held prized possessions of Cyrill. "If you were forced to kill your mother or your father," He paused, looking eyes with Cyrill."who would you choose?"
Cyrill had a puzzled look on his face, he thought the boy would want a more invasive question. "If I had to choose...I would have to kill my father." He responded. Felix smiled a crooked smile at the king. "Funny." Felix said. "You have the ability to have a choice. When I was born my mother died in labor." Felix stated, his eyes stone cold. "Then I had to murder my father, after he killed my adoptive mother. He put me up for adoption when I was barely a week old, and we all know the foster system is no good to us kids." Felix's face lacked emotion as he spoke. Cyrill didn't respond, knowing that the boy didn't feel sympathy. "Guards!" Cyrill called, and 4 immediately bust through the doors." Take Felix to the vault that holds the relics and other magical items." The guards did as told, some hesitating to follow, so as not to be next to Felix. After a moment of searching, Felix found what he was looking for, a box with a glass top that displayed a necklace. It looked like a right side up satanic pentagram, and it was worn around the neck. While Felix was at it, he grabbed multiple stones that were rumored to give ordinary people superhuman powers. No one knows where they came from, but,hell ,was Felix interested. Along with the stones came a pair of fingerless gloves that had a place to attach the stone and harvest its power. With these items, Felix left the castle, and watched he dark clouds descend onto the castle. After a moment, everything went black. Then he woke up, staring at a ceiling fan that span around slowly. He laughed to himself, and whispered: "Hello, new world"