A Game That Destroys

↬ Azure Allegations

↬ Chapter One

It was raining again, large droplets drumming against the window panes in a rhythm that echoed through the mansion. The curtains were pulled tightly together and the lights were off. The only signs of life were the gentle footsteps traveling through the hallways and corridors. A single bulb flickered on and cast a yellow hue over an otherwise dark room. The man looked around, sighed and walked out. He pressed a finger to the Bluetooth device attached to his ear.

"It's all clear," he said in a heavily accented voice. "The mansion is clean."

"Good," a bored voice drawled at the other end. "I want it ready by next week. Can you manage that, Midas?"

"Of course." He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Will that be all?"

"Not quite. Come see me. I have to talk to you about a matter of great importance. You have ten minutes."

Midas twisted on the heels of his polished black shoes and turned back in the hallway he had come from. "Very well."

The call clicked off and Midas was left hurrying down the staircases and past dozens of doorways. The mansion was large enough to get lost in, that was for certain. He made his way to the bottom floor, above the basement, and out the main double doors. His car was parked in the front, the large black Prado seemingly in place between the center fountain and the redbrick mansion. It didn't take him long to get it started and ease out of the looped driveway.

He pushed on his dark sunglasses and rolled up the blackened windows. The only problems with the mansion were the savages that had settled around it. The mansion consisted of over five hundred acres of land but right where the land ended and the signature spiked fence appeared, the homeland of the poor began. They would have to do something about that. Preferably simply run a bulldozer over the whole place and wipe out anything or anyone in the way.

An amused smile spread on his lips.

Yes, that sounded like a nice idea.

The drive to the boss's office took a while. Midas messaged him that he would be late. Had he not been such a close friend and his right-hand man, Midas would most certainly be beheaded for having the audacity to keep him waiting.

His reply came almost instantly.

Za'yaal (8:15 a.m.)

'Get me a mocha latte.'

Midas rolled his eyes.

'Aye, aye, captain.'

Za'yaal (8:18 a.m.)

'Extra cream. No sugar.'

Midas (8:20 a.m.)

'I've been buying your coffee since you were born. I know.'

Za'yaal (8:21 a.m.)

'Hurry.'

He didn't bother replying to that one. Instead, he slipped his cell phone back in his pocket and typed in the address for the nearest café on the GPS. It wasn't far. If he went over the speed limit, he'd be able to meet up with Za'yaal in twenty minutes. That was good enough.

The speed of the car accelerated to well over 100 miles per hour. No one dared stop him though. The rectangular flag slapping against the wind on the hood of the Prado was enough to warn anyone to stay away. No one but Za'yaal's men could afford to carry around such a flag in the first place.