Bride Of Death: Subversion

Chapter 2

PRESENT
TOWN OF MAZDA

After the claustrophobic warmth of the stifling kitchen, the cool air inside the mansion felt like heaven on Alex's body, the cold white marble pleasuring his naked feet as he swept the floor, the wet mop going left and right in a lazy pace, the water dripping down the wet mop in a slow drip. The long corridor stretched ahead of him in a tunnel of wooden tables at the sides of the richly paneled walls with fine bone china vases of intricate flowers. Portraits of many famed artists hung around the walls, their delicate grace enamoring even the simplest of men. 

The man with the sleek black car had left some time back, completely empty-handed. The boys had chanced to look at him as they were tiding up the parlor. Tall, graceful with a straight back, the man was wearing a suit, a dark blue three-piece suit with tiny precious gold buttons and shiny cufflinks, his eyes hidden behind a pair of opaque black lenses. He had thin lips and a straight aristocratic nose, black hair sleeked down with gel. He looked like one of the men that worked under the Crown. 

For they were the only ones who could afford to wear something so luxurious and live to tell the tale about it.

 However, a mind-boggling sight had shocked the boys when a young girl, perhaps no more than of sixteen summers had whirled down the curved marble stairs, her long peach dress flowing behind her like the wings of an angel. Her hair a beautiful mass of copper reaching below her rear bellowed out as she cried out in anguish, her delicate hands outstretched as if to stop the man from leaving.

Alex had never seen such a beautiful girl before, their world was definitely no place for beauty. As they lived in a world of crime, hatred, and unending torturous labor, people ready to kill each other for a piece of bread, a continuous cycle of pain and deceit.

This girl burst upon his scene like an exquisite phantom, her doe eyes, her rounded nose, her little pouty lips with the rich golden-colored skin, yet what drew their attention was not her beauty but her pain, her eyes were screaming, her face contoured in an expression of deep dark longing.

She stood still for a long time, her hands clasped by her side, her eyes fixed upon the mahogany door as it closed after the man, tears streaming down her face in fresh torrents. 

The awful shrieking had stopped long ago and the boys were let out soon after that. Yet the silent melting down of the young girl shook Alex's heart more vibrantly than the screaming had done before. 

Their master had come down soon after that, accompanied by a middle-aged woman with dark skin and curly hair, someone they have never seen before in the house, before they dragged the girl up, like a rag doll, lifeless and dead. 

The boys have started working soon after that, going on with their chores, YeonJun thriving in the kitchen while Sameer and Alex struggled with the mop and the wash bucket, heaving it up the stairs as they worked in different sections, their mind completely entrenched with the scenes of the morning, filled with unanswered questions, curiosity creating a deep pang inside them.  

Yet they were not allowed to question, that's what Authority dictated. The inferiors cannot question the superiors, even the simplest of things, the servants can't look in the eye of its master. They must remain bowed down when addressed. And definitely not retorting back an answer at them.

This is how things have been since the wild tempest that shook the world. The Tempest had made man vulnerable, open to invasions, and catastrophic consequences. The Ruling government had failed then, the opponents had been way too strong, the workload way too heavy. People had by then managed to instill a sense of revolution in their minds, their leaders protesting against the current deficient democracy after the natural disaster. 

The world soon crumbled down, the world leaders assassinated, and the biggest crisis marched upon humanity in the name of the Plague. It had been strong, vicious, and swift in laying over its blows. Humanity was quick to surrender, dragged down by its collar into the deep trenches of death, decay and misery. The disease spread like a wildfire, the bodies burned to exterminate the potential of infection. 

It was anarchy in its best form. The scene felt like that of Pandemonium with its army of fallen cherubs arguing amongst themselves in some frenzied passion. The world felt like it was no longer under the Will of the great almighty God and his followers. The Power dynamic seemed shifted, the Crown seemed like it was on the head of the Devil. 

And one day the disease finally stopped, people didn't drop down dead anymore, they were finally on the path of resurrection. But the Period of Anarchy had been way too long, the survival of the fittest created a world that was no more like it was in the past.

 New powers emerged, they had money and wealth, enough to feed and control what was left of humanity. The government was Autocratic, they believed in the Crown, they had a king it seemed but no one knew his name, or gazed at his face, no pictures to commemorate the great Prince.

  Religion was abolished, the first action of the government. Religious Places were broken down, the land used for new constructions, workhouses, and hostels. Some people benefited from the ordeal, but no one could really tell why or how. They were benefited from gifts of mansions and powerful positions in the government, their family thriving while others labored night and day to make ends meet. 

Alex had lost his family in the course of these years. He had lost his younger brother in the tempest when their house was destroyed by the wild untamed bouts of rain and wind, his parents in the plague, he had stolen, fought and survived in the chaos, emerging victorious against Death himself. 

Shaking his head against the onslaught of past thoughts, he shifted across the long dark corridor, the large bay windows covered in thick dark green velvet drapes, blocking the sunlight, keeping the house cooled down during the summer, even though it seemed a little gloomy and clammy. 

Sweeping across the floor, he chanced to glance upon the room, the door was open, blue chiffon curtains shifted haphazardly on one side, the room was a soft periwinkle blue, sunlight streamed inside through the open windows as the young girl sat on the carpeted floor, her legs twisted under her, her dress shifted from the peach frock to a dark blue, the texture had velvety undertones with lacy long sleeves and a high collar as if choking the girl. She was looking at her fingers, her eyes held a note of sorrow, her lips curved in a slight grimace, her hair opened in a mass of tangled auburn. 

Alex had never felt his heartbeat in such pulsating rhythm, his hands trembling as he stood still clutching at the mop, gazing fixedly at the girl with her long lashes which had clumped together after the heavy bouts of crying. He felt lightheaded, his reaction to this girl amazed yet frightened him. 

Suddenly the girl looked up, right at him, paralyzing him with both fear and awe. His blood was churning inside his body, creating a havoc of passion.The eyes, they were nothing like he had seen before, so different, so unique as if she belonged from a different realm altogether.

The eyes. They were violet, a shade of deep dark purple. A dark trench of mystic ambiguity.Magnetic and mesmerizing.

He fell down, his eyes shrouding in darkness, he heard a pair of light footsteps and the smell of fresh daisies before he darkness swallowed him up.  

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