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Prologue

Red was smeared across the skies like a fresh bloodstain.

Everyday, streaks of red were painted on the horizon as every time the world was ripped open and remade into something new, into something far better than the sorry lies that his kind had lived by.

Marcus supposed that it was but a small price to pay for the world to be transformed into the one it was meant to be.

The masses of people awaiting outside his house, with rebellion burning in their eyes and inked on their crudely-made signs, they simply did not understand yet.

A servant knocked, five knocks in rapid succession, against his wooden door. His shoulders relaxed as he leant against the front of his desk, ordering them to enter.

With the riots that had left shattered windows and promises scratched and scribbled at the edges of his property, it was best to take precautions.

Especially with the kitchen boy that had been caught sneaking messages to the world outside, two days ago.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the public would be swayed easily. But he just needed time to make them see.

The servant entered, head bowed demurely as they walked in to set out the meal, carefully arranging the cutlery.

Their hand lingered for a moment on the knife but he didn’t bother giving their brief defiance a second thought. Why would he, when he had magic on his side? Any mortal weapon was useless against him.

His mouth began to water at the rich aromas of perfectly sliced roast chicken and creamy sauce. Marcus gave his thanks to the servant, gesturing for them to leave as he went to the table.

But they didn’t budge from their spot. No, the dimwitted girl simply raised their head to look straight at him, dark brown eyes burning with hate.

His fingers closed around the knife.

“Get. Out.” he ordered.

“Am I to be kept out there, Marcus?” she asked, her voice cold.

How dare she refer to him as if they could ever be equals, when she belonged with the crowd below - unable to conceive of his vision for a brighter future for all them.

Did they simply not understand that the costs that they all had to endure were necessary in building a better world?

His fingers tightened around the handle, knuckles turning white.

He smiled instead. “No, you are to go back to the servants’ quarters and await further instructions. Maybe then you will learn your place in this new world.”

Her eyes flared a bright blue. “Maybe I could teach you yours.”

Marcus smiled, placing the knife back on the table. Magic was curled tight between his fists, bright as a newborn star.

“Well, wouldn’t that be a tale for the ages. One we could write together, if you let me teach you?” he offered.

The girl grit her teeth, jaw tightening. She shook her head and he sighed. What a shame, he thinks. She could’ve been such a useful addition to my cause.

“This tale you’re so keen on telling, is about you ripping apart the world and - and for what?”

“Everyone.” he said.

Her frustration was already simmering, blue magic sparking out from her fingers.

Considering her inability to keep it contained, she’d been a host for magic for a couple of days at most. She had barely enough training, let alone experience, to wield it properly.

He needed to keep on talking and push at that rising anger until it flooded out, leaving her defenceless until she drained another power source for magic to keep her alive.

Marcus glanced briefly at the glittering blue crystals shelved over his desk, only a couple of metres away. He’d drained so many power sources in this world and those crystals were the last one. He couldn’t risk letting her leave alive with them.

“Really? You’re ripping apart the world for yourself. All of this food, is for yourself. That magic,” she gestured at the glittering crystals,” is for yourself. Is it really a new world you’re building if everyone else is still on the bottom, just like before?”

Marcus ground his teeth. He had to hold on for a little while longer, and then she would lose control. Blue magic was already seething around her, a mass of hungry energy watching over her shoulder.

He just had to wait. She would see, they would all see that this was necessary. It was meant to be.

“I’m not my father. I don’t murder just for the sake of doing it.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Then what are you? A hero?” Her neon blue eyes burned into his own. “Reality isn’t some gods-damned science experiment for you to play around with. People are falling through the tears that you’re ripping open and families are torn apart. This greatness that you’re searching for is insanity.”

His magic crackled around him, energy tightly coiled in the centre of his hands. Marcus unleashed waves of power that shuddered through the very earth.

The house shook as if trapped in an earthquake, the windows cracking under the sheer force.

The girl threw up her hands in front of her face, stumbling back as the white power slammed hard into her wall of blue magic. Her foot slipped from under her and she gasped as she fell back into the wall.

Marcus could barely restrain his victorious smile. She’d fallen under the first attack, using nothing more than fragile shield to protect her.

With a wave of his hand, the curtains parted, leaving his room in full view of the crowds below. Let them see how any resistance, magic or not, would fall against him.

She rose to her feet, glanced at the window, at the people watching their fight with bated breaths and then turned to him, fury burning in her eyes.

His smile only widened. Fire always burned out in the end.

The girl charged at him, falling again and again as she collided with his blasts of power.

But she always rose to her feet, again and again. Even bleeding from a broken lip and with the bruises on her arms from absorbing the full impact of his attacks, she struggled back to her feet and threw bright blue-edged power at him.

Her attacks wavered as time blurred by, until he was merely swatting her to the side of his room like a fly. The crowd stopped yelling encouragement by the eighth time she had fallen.

She had terrible control of her magic, but at least she put up a fight. The kitchen boy had been such a bore, curling into a ball and whimpering after he was defeated.

The girl rose unsteadily to her feet before collapsing on the floor.

Marcus calmed the magic roiling in his veins until it settled, and then walked over to the table, taking the knife. With one hand, he held the knife and with the other, he used to drag her over to the window, by the back of her shirt.

He knelt to her height, holding her up so that she could see his face. The last one that she would ever see.

Marcus drove the blade into her stomach and pulled it out, holding her close with his other arm. Blood spread across her shirt and she pressed a hand to the wound, biting back a cry of pain, tears slipping out.

He smiled into her raven black hair as she gasped, her breathing turning shallow and ragged. The girl’s eyes turned back to dark brown, her magic gone.

“Your pathetic excuse of a rebellion will be remembered, but your body will lie in a forgotten grave.” he whispered into her ear, releasing her from his hold. “There is no place for people like you in this world.”

She managed a broken smile. “You’ve already lost.” she whispered.

Maybe the girl was crazy. He supposed that one would need a dose of insanity to dare challenge him.

As he saw her smile grow wider, his victory felt short-lived. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake off the unease that this was somehow planned.

But surely her dying here wasn’t a part of whatever plan she’d come up with?

“Your death, it means nothing. You’re never going to turn into a martyr if that’s what you’re trying to do - you barely even gave a fight. You never stood a chance of winning in the first place.” he said, but her smile stayed.

“Why?” he asked, unable to resist the tug of curiosity. It seemed that no matter what he said or did, the girl fought. This was the first time that a rebel had gone down not pleading or screaming, but smiling.

“Because you’ll never find us.” she whispered.

Us? he thought. I already-

Her eyes glowed blue. He lunged forward, knife in hand, but she had already vanished into thin air, leaving nothing behind but faint blue tendrils of smoke.

Marcus glanced at the sky.

Another red streak was slashed across it.

#short stories #writing #my writing #warped worlds #considering turning this into a series but i’m not too sure #if there are any grammar errors please let me know #this is honestly just a writing experiment #i would love any feedback on improving #this story #okay so this is probably the last time i’m writing from the perspective of a villain because marcus’s voice kind of got annoying #2018 collection