Burning In September
~~~Prologue~~~
By:
BlueWritter
Austin sat motionless on the elegant red throne placed at the center of the back wall. A line of depression etched across his forehead. He wished the pain would stop for the both of them,... now to add to everything, this was happening. Maybe it would be for the better.
Loud thunderous bangs, diffused through out the house, and echoed off the ceilings. Austin new very well what was happening, they had finally come to kill him and his new bride for what he had done. He was sorry he had gotten her in to this, after all what had he expected to happen, when he had asked her to marry him?
Maybe this way she would be happy. Shaking his head forcefully and lifting his arm to place his hand over his face, as the thought caused his throat to tighten up. The night she had ran away from him she had tried many ways to kill herself, obviously she was unsuccessful.
Maybe this event would make them both happy. She would get what she wanted; to be destroyed, and he would be happy knowing she was happy. But then, what was to come after this. He pinched his eyes shut, there was no need to think that far into it.
He rubbed his brows, creasing out the wrinkles, just to let them reaper once his hand left them. He then stood, staring as if in a daze at nothing unparticular on the maroon rug for almost a minute, as the main doors were rammed again. Sending more bangs through out the house. He wondered how rose was taking it. He ran a few ideas through his head for a bit before he decided to join rose up stairs, so they would be found together. But before he did that there was something else needing attending to.
Austin walked away form his throne to a door, that barley stood out from the wall just to the left of the thrones. He knew he had to protect it more than he needed to protect himself. More than he had to protect Rose, no matter how much he loved her. So he would the best he could, he would stick it somewhere, where it wouldn't be found till the time was right.
He passed through the door, and looked around the neglected room, he hadn't been in here sense his marriage to rose. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't trust himself to let Rose know about what was in the room.
Slowly he walked towards the old oak desk, that sat collecting dust, towards the back left corner. Many of his precious items still sat on the desk collecting dust along with it.
He knew that they would sweep through the place and take everything. All the items he stored in this small room; the smallest in the house, would be taken and sold for money. Half his items were over a hundred years old, and they would be touched up by grubby hands as they were sold from one person to the other. It made him bubble over with pure hate, just to think about the stupidity of mankind. Some of his items had only been touched by two people, himself; and the creator.
But for as much as he loved his items cluttering the small-red room, there was only one he had to make sure they didn't get there hands on. No one could touch it, not even him, accept the one it chose. He had no idea when the one chosen would be born, but he knew it would be before he was able to deliver it to them.
As he approached the desk, he opened the middle drawer, and looked down at it's contents. There were coins, dating back to the 1400's and keys to the houses all around the world, that he had lived in. He even had the skeleton key to this Manor mixed in there somewhere. But of all the keys, coins and knickknacks, one item held his attention.
Reaching in his hand, he came out with a brass chest the size of a softball. It seemed to burn in his hands. But he knew it was only the item encased inside, pulsing, that made it seem to burn. He traced his hand over the lid of the chest, feeling the bumps and groves, of the many symbols that covered the surface.
