Chapter Seventeen: Introductions

Waylen stands lifeless by the thick iron gate, his hands touching the cold black bars, caressing them. Red, all he could see is red. 

No matter how long he stood there, his body wouldn't expel the corpse. His stomach, eagerly digesting it. Bringing even more of a discomfort to his already disturbed brain. The bodily functions another in his own, once alive smiling, blushing beneath the sunset. 

If those new residents step foot into these gates, will they meet the same fate? How long until they end up in the stomachs of another? How could a human eat so much in the first place? Is he even human?

He was naive. Yesterday Waylen had been running around in a courtyard with body parts strewn around the grass, but due to the presence of Xavier, he hadn't thought too much into it. He hadn't been thinking too much of anything. A complete contradiction to his normal character. If one word could describe his emotional turmoil it would be frustration, not at others but at himself. 

If Chess had come instead, would she have faced the same disgusting fate? If so, he has never been happier at the choice to leave. That was not an event befitting of any person, especially a loveable, young lady. 

Waylen had sworn to never cry again, yet he did. When the gate swings open and the car pulls through, he could attempt to run away. The caretaker wouldn't be able to control so many people at once, he's sure of it. 

The wind around the estate picks up in protest. Oddly quiet when facing the String family, but so vocal when it came to everyone else. Voicing the will of violence, planting seeds of evil in everyone's heart. 

Last night he had given in. All alone, the only victim not yet conquered, it was easy. He had seduced a maid due to a mere whisper. He had kissed a man to take advantage of an already messed up situation. That same man knocked him out before it was seemingly too late. 

Red all he could see is red.

Several cars approach in the distance, each carrying a new resident for the estate. The caretaker firmly grabs Waylen's wrist, pulling him into the bloodstained grass out of the vehicles path.

Put on a smile. Nothing is wrong. Believe that and maybe his sanity will remain in two pieces instead of shattering into millions under the pressure. That's what Xavier seems to do.

These new people are all going to die. These new people are going to meet a cruel fate. These new people already know. He is the only one oblivious...These new people smell of death. These new people are eying him greedily. These new people are in no need of saving.

Red, all he could see is red. The color of new, fresh blood flowing from their power-hungry bodies. The color of desperate passion. A charming color, truly. It never failed to grasp the attention of others. Strong and bold, as a leader should be. 

"Welcome to the color filled estate." Waylen greets, smiling sweetly, in the wind's gentle embrace. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." 

***

Xavier watches from the open window above, his silver hair fighting against the stormy winds, appearing to have the need to sweep everything off its feet. To put a marvelous show. To convey a rather interesting message. Spelling out everything that Jonthan Riggs is doing his best to keep silenced. 

It is futile. It's only a matter of time before he's demoted, but not dethroned. No matter how much the String family throws a thorn into his reign, it won't possibly end. For, he had already long won over the only one that matters. That handsome psychopathic monster with a twisted sense of humor, who often created "games" to ease his boredom. This is just another one. 

Waylen Noel, try your best. Show him what is stronger, nature or upbringing, using your own vulnerable self. 

As for Chesslynn, stay out of it. She knows better than anyone what will happen if her pretty face shows itself now. Continue to weep my dear. Till your once luscious blonde hair is disheveled and matted. Throw away that beauty, bare your fangs. Accomplish what your brother fails to do. 

Only one will win. Chesslynn, Waylen, you'll have to grow apart eventually. When you do, make sure to remember me. For I am greedy. I will not stop here. It'll be me who wins. 

***

The feeling of Xavier's gaze brings a sense of comfort to Waylen's beating heart. It felt nice to know his victim cares so deeply. 

None of these people had been sorted into colors yet, though they dressed elegantly, covered head to toe in expensive fabrics. It seems color sorting will be part of the birthday festivities.

A wave of nausea hits him, thinking back to the blue meeting hall. How could Xavier deal with such things? Johnthan Riggs himself gave off no indication that the scene strayed for normality. Stick to blue. May the gods be merciful and keep him there. Red will be the death of him.

"May I have your name?" A green-eyed man asks, interrupting Waylen's thoughts. 

Turning his attention to the green-eyed man, he looked like an otherwise emotionless doll. That introductory smile being the last of his emotions he could muster up for that particular day; cold and distant.

No more words left Waylen's mouth, his almond-colored eyes flickering. Quickly finding their way into Xaviers, a wave of desire spread through his body. Causing a resistance in the new temptation to "eliminate" the competition. 

As much as those thoughts disturbed his partially functioning brain, the desire is still there. It had been that way from the get-go. Say it is in his nature. Apart from Chesslynn, nobody has ever mattered. He spent all his time chronically reading and writing, watching his twin sister bang her drumsticks. Out of the books he read, Waylen could never identify himself with a hero, finding them irrational and dumb. Only coming up on top due to overpowered luck. Villains are much more charming, working for everything instead of having it handed, only to tragically lose it all in the end. There is little dispute that failure is the most attractive punishment, especially when victory is inches away from the characters hungry clutches.