Deus Ex Machina: Verdict of a God

A Discovery Of A Fourth - 04

As small as the outside was, Alex expected the home to only have the bare minimum--a floor, a roof and food. Instead, he couldn't have been more wrong. The massive living area was carpeted with furs and the walls were lined with the heads of animals, their eyes seemingly staring back into his. A golden chandelier floated under the massive expanse that was the ceiling, unimpeded by wires or any actual source of energy, just simply shining. There were seats all around the massive room, each draped in its own animal skin, most of which Alex didn't even know existed.

All of this was only magnified by the fact that the house had another floor. The Imperial staircase--covered, of course in its own special red skin--united the home and added to the already too wealthy atmosphere of the home.

Alex was at a loss for words. This was just . . . insane.

How?

"You have never seen an illusion? I mean, this is really, but you must have seen something like this before." Karya stated, moving to take a seat in one of the sofas.

Alex was still dumbfounded, unable to even respond. The man gestured towards him and the ropes binding him fell away. With confusion abound, the room grew dark as the man's face took on a grim expression.

"Who are you?" he questioned, his voice rumbling towards Alex like thunder.

"Uhh . . . A-Alex A-Archer." His voice quivered as he spoke, the words coming out in an unfamiliar stutter.

"Where are you from?"

"A-Aberdeen, Idaho, Birmingham County."

The two stared inquisitively at Alex, confusion evident on their faces. Karya whispered into the man's ear, never taking her eyes off of Alex. The man nodded and refocused onto Alex, resuming questioning.

" Why do you smell like that?" Alex looked away from the man's gaze as he teared up, remembering what had happened . . . before.

The room suddenly brightened as . . . someone? No, something walked down the stairs, Towel in hand. The wooden, faceless figure stopped in front of Alex and turned towards the man, seemingly awaiting a command.

"Take him to the washroom and let him clean up."He looked back towards Alex, "We have much to discuss, Alex. The golem will show you to a room." He flashed a bright smile, trying to put Alex at ease. "Get some rest."

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

Light filtered in through the large window at the other side of the room, waking Alex from his sleep. Alex's slumber was plagued with nightmares of drowning, death and twisted smiles, the room being the only thing stopping the man and Karya from hearing his groans and screams in the night. The events of the previous day came flooding back to him in a wave of anger, sadness and discomfort. He slumped over and held his hand in his head, the feather-stuffed bed yielding under the increased weight in one area.

He stepped down unto the floor, only to step on a suit of clothes--a white t-shirt and jeans; completely different from what he saw those two wearing. Deciding not to question it, he put on the clothes and went downstairs towards the sound of arrows thwapping through the air.

Instinctively he made to go downstairs, towards the kitchen where his mother would be cooking and completely forgetting about following the sound of the arrows, then suddenly remembering that he was somewhere else, trapped in wherever this place was. Then he became angry. For the simple reason that he didn't know where he was, -- though it could have been a myriad of other things -- he stormed down the steps and began to throw things. Be it vases, chairs or tables, he threw.

And threw.

And threw.

Until the entire room was torn apart.

He huffed and heaved until his breath was steady, then lay on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling. He tried to come up with a solid reason for what he had just done, but could come up with none, neither could he find an emotion to drag up other than chilled indifference. He sat up, looked towards the door and stood to go outside, the sound of arrows never once stopping in his tirade.

Arrows split in half were strewn below the many targets that were scattered about the fenced-off range. The centre of each target was scorched as if fire had been thrown at it; which is what Alex assumed happened. The man smiled at Alex but said nothing, beckoning for him to come over. He obliged, moving under the awning which sheltered the stable where the ethereal horses lived and staring at the large, silver beast from his meeting with these two yesterday.

"August." The man suddenly stated.

"What?" Alex asked, confused by the sudden utterance.

"The name of the horse is August. You wanna ride him?"

"I--uh, sure?"

*

And as Alex became acclimated to his situation and dealt with his 'death', a new player falls unto the gameboard

A/N: So? What's so bad about it? Is the writing monotonous? Confusing? Meandering? Do you just hate it? Lemme know. *coughs violently* and vote *hacks up a loogie*