Getting what you deserve

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Duke Mail was a vain man and wanted what he thought was due to him.

Submitted: October 22, 2010

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Submitted: October 22, 2010

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The lightening crashed as if an omen to approaching storm. A man hurried from arch way to arch way in the blackening night. He was dressed in a heavy dark cloak with hood pulled up to disguise his face. He was on a secret and deadly mission this night and the portents all pointed to this as the right one. He thought back over the last couple of days and smiled. He remembered the anticipation and the feeling of awe when he was told tonight would be his night. That he would get what he finally deserved. Then he thought of the child and its innocence. The frightened look in his eyes as he approached him. The looks and screams of terror as he grabbed the boy and held him down. He shivers in delight at this memory, and deep in thought does not notice the man following him. Finally arriving at his destination the man opens the old rotten door with a creek and steps inside. Closing the door behind him as he stops to lets his eyes adjust to the dim light given off by the flickering fire pit located in the far corner. A small figure is silhouetted against the light standing near a black caldron type pot. The man approaches the figure on quiet feet not to disturb her. Just before he reaches her she turns slightly and says in an ancient voice ,”Ah Duke Mail you have come at the appointed time just as the portents foretold.” The Duke’s face contorts into a grimace as he approaches and the ancient smell of the old woman hits his nostrils. The Duke snaps ,” I have come as you told me to crone. Now do not waste my time or I will have you flogged. I have come for what is due me as you foretold.” The old crone laughs a cackling laugh then says, “ Why would an old woman such as I do anything to incur your mighty wrath? You shall get all that is coming to you and more but we must wait until the appropriate time patience m’lord.” The Duke’s perfectly trimmed mustache twitches but he knows it is no use to try to hurry her she does things in her way and on her time. He walks to the crude chair and has a seat to wait for her. Only then does he notice a mirror and wonders where it came from. His eyes are drawn to it he can not stop looking into it at his own reflection. He studies his red hair and icy blue eyes and decides for a man pushing fifty he does not look bad at all. Then as he watches he notices that his appearance seems to be getting younger. The slight grey starts to leave his hair and the crows feet under his eyes start to fade. When he looks to be about thirty in the mirror he looks down to his hand sees, not the hands of an old man, but the hands of a young man just in his prime. he runs his fingers through his hair and feels the long fullness of his youth in it. He starts laughing and gets up to go to the crone. As he approaches he says, “It worked I can not believe you have done as you promised you made me young again. Now I can enjoy my wealth and power and all the things that go with it.” The crone turns to him and says, “But m’lord we are not done yet I promised you you would get all you has coming to you remember? No no we re far from done.” Duke Mail snaps with impatience ,”This is all I wanted and deserve crone. You have done me a great service this night I will not forget it.” Turning he stops by the table and drops a small bag of coins as payment, but just as he reaches the door the crone says ,”NO! STOP! I said we are not done yet.” Duke Mail tries to move but can not. He struggles vainly to reach the door handle. Terror enters his face as he knows he is trapped. He stutters ,”I am the Duke you can not do this to me.” The crone snaps ,”SILENCE! You are nothing but a boy in a man’s body.” Mail looks at his hands and starts in horror as he sees the hands of a young boy no more then twelve years old. Then the door creaks open slowly and in steps a man dressed in black. The Duke knows this man it is the slaver who usually sells him the young boys. The slaver says ,”Ahhh Duke Mail so good to see you my boy” and grins at him with broken and hideous teeth. Then turns to the crone and says ,”Same price as before?” The crown responds with a nod to the affirmative. The slaver chuckles and leaves a bag next to the Duke’s on the table. Walking towards him the slaver says ,”Now you will get everything that is coming to you m’lord.” Grabbing him up he slips out the door closing it quietly. The Duke tries to fight tries to scream but can not as the spell he is under holds him silent and still. After they leave the crown whispers hoarsely ,”Now you have all that is coming to you” and spits.


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