In a quiet path, adorned and dressed by the calm rain, a young marquess made his way walking aimlessly with unsteady steps between numerous scattered corpses, as each step echoed through the mist he felt himself falling.
Falling, falling all over again, and so eventually he didn't see any more mist ahead of him, in fact he didn't see a single thing.
...
Aforetime, the boy's face had been covered by a scary mask representing a ghost and as he gazed through his room's window.
He saw the usual passers-by: an errand boy, who messily sparred with his sister, who was one of the maids.
Seeing such a peaceful scene the young marquess couldn't help but smile under the mask concealing his face, however the elder housekeeper was one who without doubt didn't have sympathy to spare, therefore an expected yelling caught the attention of the youth looking outside at the scene
"You poor rats! What's this sparring? brooms are for cleaning, didn't your mother tell you! If I witness such an act again, be sure, your salary won't be untouched!"
At these comments, the servants had nothing to say, because for sure they wished to get paid at the end of the month "..old bitch, may she trip out the window..." the younger servant was well known for his sharp tongue and bitter mouth, however the quiet marquess always found it rather refreshing and agreed with most of sayings, that boy spoke truth.
"Always so harsh, isn't she.." The sister had resumed to steadily sweep the ground, aiming at some scattered petals.
The young marquess had been sitting at his desk, which was right under a window, the entire day doing lieterature studies and other various topics his instructor had assigned previously, suddenly, an old maid rushed in his chamber "Your parents wish to discuss important matters, they seem in a hurry..." This was the last sentence.
Rain on rain, steps on steps, tears on tears.
He walked through the tight path between the deep forest, several maids walking behind him, on his left, and on his right; some holding particularly expensive lights he hadn't. ever seen around the mansion.
One of them, behind him, held a sword firmly.
After his vision went dark, the first thing he felt were the strangely expensive clothing he wore and the jewellery on it. He didn't own such clothing, although it fitted perfectly
As he almost shined under the lights, the surroundings grew darker and darker, he had never been allowed to go this further on the mountain.
The peak was near, his legs were weaker, the maids became fewer, some began to quietly cry.
From forty-four, four remained.
Two maids along two lights, the only sword-wielding servand and The young Marquees himself.
The being in front of him was, most certainly, not a human.
This night is the first of the many in which he saw Him.