Day 1

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Hey cookies!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and this story so far.

If you have any reason to dislike it, tell me, and I'll work on it, or clear it up.

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Peter's Pov:

After all of that undesired attention, I decided that I would ask Wade my questions later, and put my plan into action.

We were led to rooms, each separate, and grand in its own way.

My room held a beautiful large bed, a desk, and a door that I assumed was a closet until venturing in to see a bathroom that I'd kill to have.

There was also a balcony with a perfect view of the gardens, and though they were overgrown, the grass, weeds, and flowers accented the old and undisturbed look of the castle.

My mind set me off on the stories about these rooms, making me drown in thought.

The stories always said that everyone would be moved, as they were ranked favorite to least, around the castle, least favorite being near the basement, and favorite being closer to Wade.

Though later over the years, I'd been told that he would just send them all back prematurely, or kill them for crying too much.

Over time, the one he'd choose who would be moved until they were finally in his room, and the others would either be sent back or killed.

Killed... Aunt May... Did he kill her, or am I just going to die by the hands of a man who did nothing wrong against me?

I really hope he was her killer, but my own evidence, from seeing the past cases, and hearing stories, suggest that his kills are clean, and meticulous.

How does he clean all of the blood, and still get out in time? How does he clean himself and leave no traces?

Suddenly I think of what he looks like under all of his clothing.

What eye color does he have? And his hair color? Is he scarred from past wars, or is his skin smooth? What can he do ability wise? Is he a hybrid? Or a chimera of species?

Are his hands callused, or soft? Is his muscle more defined than his red and black full body suit suggests? Was that bulge in his pants real, or is my imagination running wild again?

In my now somewhat lustful state, I was startled by a knock on my door.

Casually opening the door, I looked around, and then down, to see a short little candlestick and miniature grandfather clock, staring straight up at me.

"Follow me, and you will find that life, is better than what you seek." The, now apparently, French stick of wax spoke, before going down the hall.

"Come along, you will be safe." The clock said, genuinely.

So I followed, and as we walked towards the end of the hall, I realized that there was a stained glass window, decorated to resemble a wilting rose.

"We are not supposed to show you this..." The clock said, though he opened the door to a room. "But I hope this will strengthen your resolve."

I was about to ask why they wanted me to "strengthen" my resolve, and for what, but the French candle opened the door. I lost my breath at the sight of the bright yet gloomy room.

Inside was a wilting rose, sitting under a glass container on a small brown table. I could tell it was once a vibrant red, but no more were the beautiful, joyful colors present. Black covered many petals, and the ones that weren't dead, were dying.

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