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Are You Truly A Murderer?
Last Updated:
2024-12-12 18:02:01
Seprai HarleBeloved, esteemed readers, if you've read up to this point, let me say a big Thank You to you. I appreciate your patience. And I assure you, the spicy parts you've all been waiting for are coming in full. Please let me know in the comments what you think of the characters. xoxo
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To Put A Leash On The Master As Unsolid As Dust
“Can I not do it?” I mutter, earning a surprise look from Fon. Like, girl, do you follow the news at all? Do you not see the words being thrown about? You’re literally standing in a room with an alleged murderer, you damned furhead! I recline in my chair before swiveling around to back Fon. “You’re dismissed.” “Alright, ma’am,” I hear her say. “Here is your speech. Please let me know if you’d like to make adjustments. I’ll be back soon to escort you to the public hall.”When I hear the door open and close, I spring to my feet, hurrying to bolt the lock. Then I place my hands on my waist as I pace the office, my eyes shut tight. I’m unsure if this is how praying works, but I know I’m muttering words of plea—for a smooth press release, or at least nicer questions and more nerves. I need the courage to answer all queries without breaking down in front of a hundred people who’ll share the moment with the world.The time comes and Fon knocks on the door. When I don’t respond, she tries
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Standing straight, I place my right hand on my chest to bow. And despite the crowd going into full-on crash mode behind me, I exit the hall.Walking through the corridor, I recall what Hattie used to say.‘Anger is prone to density. It should be battled with an opposite approach. Never let your anger flood your mind, as it clouds your sense of reasoning. It’s better to admit it inch by inch as if fighting a battle in the dark where you’re the only one who sees. Suppress every inch that you let in until it’s truly gone.’ I often thought she made no sense. And I still think so. In fact, it could be the dumbest advice anyone has ever given me. When my anger attacks, it attacks all at once, and as much as Hattie always tried to stop me from destroying things, I find it the only way to gain real satisfaction and closure.I don’t have to listen to her. It’s also okay to fight without seeing in the dark. I just… I just have to master it; feel out my opponent’s weak spot—feel the disadvan
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Today’s Monday is Monday as usual.One could be overlooked on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, as their presence could have been familiarized—or something like that. No one bothers to care when they walk by.However, on Mondays, the dust brought up during the weekends is left unsettled, eliciting side-eyes and whispers when one reappears. Aside from that though, Mondays are naturally terrible. I don’t know the kind of jinx bound to it, but I’m pretty certain the same power has me in its grip as I enter the conference room.There strike the stares, making up for where the whispers do not. These folks were loud just seconds ago. Now the only sound in the hall is from my shoes.My seat creaks when I sit down. Surely, it appreciates the daredevil aura of my presence as I cross my legs, lean back, and place my elbows on the handrest.So, where were we?A hand supporting my jaw allows me to look carefully at a few people’s faces—their grey hairs, their wrinkles; I don’t know if
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Walking away this time, I am sure as hell not stopping if the man behind me tells me to.I don’t like his guts, that’s one thing. Another is the look on his face whenever he regards me; smug, with a smile that never seems to fade. However, it’s a good thing he’s not tall, dark, and handsome like a certain vicious man. And he looks good nevertheless. Just a tiny message across to Hunter reminding him one more time that he’s not the god he thinks he is.The drive back to White Cosmetics wasn’t a smooth one. It seemed as if the number of people joining the protest increased per hour. And it’s not even half the population still considering it.Last week, I didn’t realize how hectic resuming work was, but today it hit me. A few days ago, I’d be mopping the floors of Saturn’s or Morton's room while sneaking my phone out from time to time to chat with Hunter. And I enjoyed those moments… more than anything.Now I’m sitting behind a desk that holds so many taxing memories, hellbent on grabbin
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“How do you feel?”Not fine.“Like you should fuck off?”The man behind me huffs. He should try moving to my front so I can fucking ask him why he’s everywhere at once.“Are you always in such a foul mood?” he asks, prompting me to turn back. And there he stands; the one guy I know whose smile can force bile up my throat.“You only happen to meet me when I’m the most offended,” I snap. “Blame it on your ill luck.”“Even at the restaurant?”I squint my eyes as if warning him to vomit whatever he has in mind or I’ll bite. “What restaurant?”“New Year’s Eve. KF restaurant.” I pout before the man adds, “In the male bathroom?”Bloody male restroom? How the fuck did we meet― oh… Oh! That was him? The buzzcut guy that I didn’t care to look twice at! No wonder I kept feeling like I knew him from somewhere.I take the opportunity to register the rest of him, though I try not to stare hard or he’ll deem me a pervert.All I can say is that his name fits his looks. Also, the mystery in his aura s
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“Another blood oath? I resisted the first,” I say as I look at the Umbra Crown who is suddenly bearing an excited demeanor.“Ah, ah. This one is different.” He rubs his index and thumb fingers like a chef warming up for his next delicacy, disappearing and appearing in the fog while scurrying around pillars. He suddenly stops close to me, sniffing near my neck. “It is like… an awakening. Hah!”Then he vanishes again.When he comes back, it’s with a ring this time, one the size of his head. Its property is unknown, but it shimmers with lights that seem alive, looking like a colorful snake slithers inside it.The object could break if it falls; that is how fragile it looks. The Realm’s Future, they call it. It is also the only thing with color in the Labyrinth, aside from the Umbra Crown’s golden eyes that are now peering at my face pores.“No,” I mutter when he tries to crown me with the ring. I know what it does to people. It deceives. “Do not manipulate me with that thing again.”“O
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The hallway echoes the footfalls of stomping darkness.But as the mute walls give way to the caress of a slow and brooding piano motif, the huge, two-way door at the hallway’s end brings us the pleasantries of a room screaming sanity and proper celebrations.A descent of steps in front of me leads to the dance floor, where pillars are still but bodies swing. With the roof high and unending, the floors are as slippery as the devil’s tongue, absolutely unfit for a person to walk on.Except these aren’t people. No, they’re not. They look paradisiacal. Vibrant despite the hall’s caliginous state.As the ladies trip the light fantastic to a hypnotic rhythm, their bowl dresses swirl around their feet, their long and colorful strands like air behind them. The smiles capturing their countenances tell the tales of their light minds, charming the gents who look graceful in patterned tailcoats over black pants.Their light tones unite to battle the funereal aura of the hall, somehow nearly kil
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Not a familiar name, that one. I’ve heard nothing of it until now.Maybe he didn’t make it to the history books. It could be about the empire; history must have registered the empire instead.But I must find a way of asking about it without compromising myself. That way, I can also note this woman’s level of intelligence.“Um…” I clear my throat, shuffling to the stool I once sat on and placing my hands on it to drop my weight. “My ‘experiments’ have eaten most of my time, and I’m probably too exhausted to recall a lot of… things.” Wait. Do I sound medieval enough? “Did I... have any plans for today?” Does she understand? She’s looking at me with her lips slightly parted, and I think it’s disbelief, especially since her hands have stopped working.“Queva,” she says, then rests against the counter. “Finish the Battle of Cutting Seas, conquering Queva. Then... celebrate... with the emperor. Your experiment’s progress has not fared well of late, and you needed to ease your mind. Seeing
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HEIDI.The rich, warm scent of soil, of fresh rain on earth, reminds me of how it feels to be alive.It looks to me like I’ve been thrown into a random fiction series—dark fantasy, to be precise. Should I say it’s the underworld? Nah. The underworld wouldn’t look this good. Heaven wouldn’t be this bad(?) either. Between? Maybe. But I can’t recall whether Philosophers mentioned a place between the two.Regardless of what this is, it’s a surety that I’m dead. Its near ruin of greys and ashes, mists and moisture, stones and bristled grounds, only makes me thank my shoes—and a soul that had formed a sole to tread on melting metal.I find I’m standing in a lone and narrow medieval street that looks like a painting, flanked by dark, imposing brick buildings. Their pointed roofs give me chills, especially as they look as if they could pierce the looming, twilight grey sky until it releases the clouds upon my very head.Speaking of the sky, I don’t know if I should tag it sunless or moonless.
To Put A Leash On The Master Lunacy Meets Obsession
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To Put A Leash On The Master Hunter's POV
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My car’s parked across the road with me in the driver’s seat. White’s main company building overlooks us, the road partition and the crowd serving as my only blockade to it.I should ride into the building’s garage. It’s safer now, after all, as the police are now limiting the severity of violence and have placed barriers so the crowd won’t obstruct people getting in and out of the building.But I’m still feeling like a tightrope walker; afraid of so many things at once that I can’t begin to point them out.And yet what’s more disturbing is the wailing throng. Their famished appearances, coupled with the fact that most have slept here for days because they can’t return home and be reminded of their deceased loved one is enough to drive even the cold-hearted to sympathy. Hunter excluded.While watching the hectic scene, I notice an odd person cut through the crowd into the building. I only saw their backside. Yet, regardless of them being fast, I caught that the person was a male.He wo
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Walking away this time, I am sure as hell not stopping if the man behind me tells me to.I don’t like his guts, that’s one thing. Another is the look on his face whenever he regards me; smug, with a smile that never seems to fade. However, it’s a good thing he’s not tall, dark, and handsome like a certain vicious man. And he looks good nevertheless. Just a tiny message across to Hunter reminding him one more time that he’s not the god he thinks he is.The drive back to White Cosmetics wasn’t a smooth one. It seemed as if the number of people joining the protest increased per hour. And it’s not even half the population still considering it.Last week, I didn’t realize how hectic resuming work was, but today it hit me. A few days ago, I’d be mopping the floors of Saturn’s or Morton's room while sneaking my phone out from time to time to chat with Hunter. And I enjoyed those moments… more than anything.Now I’m sitting behind a desk that holds so many taxing memories, hellbent on grabbin
To Put A Leash On The Master A Losing Game
Today’s Monday is Monday as usual.One could be overlooked on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, as their presence could have been familiarized—or something like that. No one bothers to care when they walk by.However, on Mondays, the dust brought up during the weekends is left unsettled, eliciting side-eyes and whispers when one reappears. Aside from that though, Mondays are naturally terrible. I don’t know the kind of jinx bound to it, but I’m pretty certain the same power has me in its grip as I enter the conference room.There strike the stares, making up for where the whispers do not. These folks were loud just seconds ago. Now the only sound in the hall is from my shoes.My seat creaks when I sit down. Surely, it appreciates the daredevil aura of my presence as I cross my legs, lean back, and place my elbows on the handrest.So, where were we?A hand supporting my jaw allows me to look carefully at a few people’s faces—their grey hairs, their wrinkles; I don’t know if
