Bad∞End∞Night-Decline
Plot twist!
Anthony shifted on his feet, his head in turmoil, he had this man in front of him, the man he had wanted all night…his heart was screaming “Go for it... What are you waiting for? You have an invitation god damn it!” But his brain was thinking differently, “Is this what you want? Really? Have you thought this through? You have two options and you hardly know this man, hell he’s attractive and he’s flattered you beyond belief, but think about what you’re getting yourself into.”
Anthony sighed and looked deeply into the Masters eyes, and as much as he wanted to roar, “YES.” And jump on him but his brain had actually managed to get Anthony to think rationally.
Anthony closed his eyes trying to channel out his hearts cry. He was about to destroy all he had built up tonight, the conflict within him was unbearable and he had never been treated as such a valued person. Although he might be looked up to in his village, his Mom, never particularly thankful toward him, his siblings…hardly ever noticed him, spoke to him. Though…something was just not right. Why did the Master leave out the consequences of saying yes?
“Honestly?” Anthony said, exhaling shakily, the pure temptation growing stronger.
Ian didn’t utter a single word, just nodded his head once, his eyes slightly darkening, that was weird, did everyone’s eyes do that in this house?
Anthony gritted his teeth-this was too much.
“I’m going to have to…decline.” Anthony muttered.
Ian exhaled as if he had just been punched in his stomach, he stumbled back a few steps. He looked up at Anthony with hurt in his eyes, yet they were so dark his pupil was hardly visible.
“What?” Ian growled, lowly.
Anthony took a step back, “I said…I would have to decline. I-I’m sorry.” He felt scared; the way Ian was looking at him was scary.
Ian closed his eyes and then looked back at Anthony blankly, his eyes the original icy blue, guarded. Immediately Anthony felt cut off, all the electricity in him short-circuited and came to a grinding halt. Ian straightened his posture and quickly opened the door, ushering Anthony out wordlessly. Anthony was frozen and could hardly move his legs, he could hardly breathe, hardly think. What was it that was making him feel like he just died? Was it that he had never met a man that exuded such immaculateness? Was it that he had never felt such fire that when it was gone it left him feeing dead inside? Was it that was…the wrong decision? Anthony stood there staring at his feet and finally found himself coming closer to them, sitting on the ground. Why had this all happened in one night? Why was it that it was making him feel like his whole world had just come crashing down around him at the offer of sex? Is it that it could lead to something more? Anthony didn’t know, all he knew was that he had never felt completely shattered before in such a short amount of time.
He heard a crash inside the study and his eyes began to water, walking back to his night quarters Anthony stumbled through the door, his vision blurry and threw himself onto his bed. He realised as soon as he was trying to bury himself away from the world underneath the safety and security of the blankets that he had not let go of the book Ian had handed to him. He stared at it, eyes beginning to water again. Why was it making him upset? As far as he knew this man shouldn’t mean anything, but he did…he did.
Anthony opened the book and turned to a random page. A beautiful hand written scroll covered each page and next to the main poem Ian had made notes about the terms and hidden metaphors in the poems. Anthony read the notes around a poem, the depth he had studied these in was astounding. Anthony decided to leave the notes and read the poem first instead, turning to a new page.
Learning Love
Drawing from the glass of red wine I sip.
The red shines on my hands too.
I don’t understand what drove me.
But I learnt love the wrong way.
-Bernard Shilling
Anthony’s brows furrowed, not understanding why the poem was so short and what on earth it even meant. Anthony was usually quite good with learning poems, especially short ones but this just made no sense.
Anthony read the intricate handwriting below it-
He committed suicide? But in his final moments he realizes how stupid he was and how he dealt with it wrong? I don’t understand~ maybe…maybe one day I’ll see what he meant?
Anthony shook his head and jumped out of bed, shaken by the poem, he got changed and sprinted through the halls of the mansion, eventually finding the large, exquisite front hall. He ran to the front door and tried to pull it open but found himself being forcefully dragged backwards and turned to face the large stairwell.
“Wha-what?” Anthony said, looking up the stairwell he saw a figure at the top coated in a black mist that seemed to be holding a book.
Anthony tried to open his mouth to yell for help but didn’t manage to before the figure started speaking in a voice that he recognized.
“Well, well, well. Leaving so soon?” The figure spoke coming down the stairs, masking his face with the book that was opened to an unidentifiable page.
“Master?” Anthony breathed, shocked.
“Don’t recognize me? I’m hurt Anthony.”
Anthony tried to free himself but when he looked down he found himself spiraled in a mist that resembled the one shrouding Ian.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“Normally I wouldn’t do this but you evoke something different in me. If you learnt to use it you would leave me powerless but you’ve just changed all the feeling I felt for you, the- different feelings I felt for you into anger.”
Anthony was dropped from the mist, which left him frozen, facing Ian.
“Anthony. Before I dispose of you. Before I trash all my feelings for you.” Ian said, beginning to get riled, “I want to thank you. I want to fucking thank you.” Ian growled, louder. “You are the only fucking person in the whole world who could teach me what this poem means!”
By this point Ian was yelling, breathing heavily so the mist grew heavier.
He calmed his breathing, finally showing his face to Anthony. Instead of scary Ian looked pain stricken and hurt.
“I’m sorry Anthony. I’m sorry.”
As Ian began to watch the scene in front of him unfold he read the poem out to himself again and again.
“Drawing from the glass of red wine I sip.
The red shines on my hands too.
I don’t understand what drove me.
But I learnt love the wrong way.
Well, Bernard, killing the one you love so no one can have them is never easy.”
Cry watched the scene in front of his eyes. Watching what he had seen once before. But never had the Master been as truly brutal and caring at the same time. Had he been the only partially lucky one?
YOU GOT THE BAD END!
Play the good one?
Already read the good end? skip to part 3!
Part 3
Anthony shifted on his feet, his head in turmoil, he had this man in front of him, the man he had wanted all night…his heart was screaming “Go for it... What are you waiting for? You have an invitation god damn it!” But his brain was thinking differently, “Is this what you want? Really? Have you thought this through? You have two options and you hardly know this man, hell he’s attractive and he’s flattered you beyond belief, but think about what you’re getting yourself into.”
Anthony sighed and looked deeply into the Masters eyes, and as much as he wanted to roar, “YES.” And jump on him but his brain had actually managed to get Anthony to think rationally.
Anthony closed his eyes trying to channel out his hearts cry. He was about to destroy all he had built up tonight, the conflict within him was unbearable and he had never been treated as such a valued person. Although he might be looked up to in his village, his Mom, never particularly thankful toward him, his siblings…hardly ever noticed him, spoke to him. Though…something was just not right. Why did the Master leave out the consequences of saying yes?
“Honestly?” Anthony said, exhaling shakily, the pure temptation growing stronger.
Ian didn’t utter a single word, just nodded his head once, his eyes slightly darkening, that was weird, did everyone’s eyes do that in this house?
Anthony gritted his teeth-this was too much.
“I’m going to have to…decline.” Anthony muttered.
Ian exhaled as if he had just been punched in his stomach, he stumbled back a few steps. He looked up at Anthony with hurt in his eyes, yet they were so dark his pupil was hardly visible.
“What?” Ian growled, lowly.
Anthony took a step back, “I said…I would have to decline. I-I’m sorry.” He felt scared; the way Ian was looking at him was scary.
Ian closed his eyes and then looked back at Anthony blankly, his eyes the original icy blue, guarded. Immediately Anthony felt cut off, all the electricity in him short-circuited and came to a grinding halt. Ian straightened his posture and quickly opened the door, ushering Anthony out wordlessly. Anthony was frozen and could hardly move his legs, he could hardly breathe, hardly think. What was it that was making him feel like he just died? Was it that he had never met a man that exuded such immaculateness? Was it that he had never felt such fire that when it was gone it left him feeing dead inside? Was it that was…the wrong decision? Anthony stood there staring at his feet and finally found himself coming closer to them, sitting on the ground. Why had this all happened in one night? Why was it that it was making him feel like his whole world had just come crashing down around him at the offer of sex? Is it that it could lead to something more? Anthony didn’t know, all he knew was that he had never felt completely shattered before in such a short amount of time.
He heard a crash inside the study and his eyes began to water, walking back to his night quarters Anthony stumbled through the door, his vision blurry and threw himself onto his bed. He realised as soon as he was trying to bury himself away from the world underneath the safety and security of the blankets that he had not let go of the book Ian had handed to him. He stared at it, eyes beginning to water again. Why was it making him upset? As far as he knew this man shouldn’t mean anything, but he did…he did.
Anthony opened the book and turned to a random page. A beautiful hand written scroll covered each page and next to the main poem Ian had made notes about the terms and hidden metaphors in the poems. Anthony read the notes around a poem, the depth he had studied these in was astounding. Anthony decided to leave the notes and read the poem first instead, turning to a new page.
Learning Love
Drawing from the glass of red wine I sip.
The red shines on my hands too.
I don’t understand what drove me.
But I learnt love the wrong way.
-Bernard Shilling
Anthony’s brows furrowed, not understanding why the poem was so short and what on earth it even meant. Anthony was usually quite good with learning poems, especially short ones but this just made no sense.
Anthony read the intricate handwriting below it-
He committed suicide? But in his final moments he realizes how stupid he was and how he dealt with it wrong? I don’t understand~ maybe…maybe one day I’ll see what he meant?
Anthony shook his head and jumped out of bed, shaken by the poem, he got changed and sprinted through the halls of the mansion, eventually finding the large, exquisite front hall. He ran to the front door and tried to pull it open but found himself being forcefully dragged backwards and turned to face the large stairwell.
“Wha-what?” Anthony said, looking up the stairwell he saw a figure at the top coated in a black mist that seemed to be holding a book.
Anthony tried to open his mouth to yell for help but didn’t manage to before the figure started speaking in a voice that he recognized.
“Well, well, well. Leaving so soon?” The figure spoke coming down the stairs, masking his face with the book that was opened to an unidentifiable page.
“Master?” Anthony breathed, shocked.
“Don’t recognize me? I’m hurt Anthony.”
Anthony tried to free himself but when he looked down he found himself spiraled in a mist that resembled the one shrouding Ian.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“Normally I wouldn’t do this but you evoke something different in me. If you learnt to use it you would leave me powerless but you’ve just changed all the feeling I felt for you, the- different feelings I felt for you into anger.”
Anthony was dropped from the mist, which left him frozen, facing Ian.
“Anthony. Before I dispose of you. Before I trash all my feelings for you.” Ian said, beginning to get riled, “I want to thank you. I want to fucking thank you.” Ian growled, louder. “You are the only fucking person in the whole world who could teach me what this poem means!”
By this point Ian was yelling, breathing heavily so the mist grew heavier.
He calmed his breathing, finally showing his face to Anthony. Instead of scary Ian looked pain stricken and hurt.
“I’m sorry Anthony. I’m sorry.”
As Ian began to watch the scene in front of him unfold he read the poem out to himself again and again.
“Drawing from the glass of red wine I sip.
The red shines on my hands too.
I don’t understand what drove me.
But I learnt love the wrong way.
Well, Bernard, killing the one you love so no one can have them is never easy.”
Cry watched the scene in front of his eyes. Watching what he had seen once before. But never had the Master been as truly brutal and caring at the same time. Had he been the only partially lucky one?
YOU GOT THE BAD END!
Play the good one?
Already read the good end? skip to part 3!
Part 3