One

 

 

 He stood against the wall, shoulders relaxed, eyes searching across the room from person to person. His auburn locks framed his smooth, alabaster skin--the prismatic light of the chandliers dancing around his silky tendrils. With a small intake of breath, his nostrils flared and then...stillness.  He smirked, enhancing his flawless features, making himself seem almost approachable as his ebony eyes glimmered in the dimly lit room

 He squinted a bit, peering through the smoke filled resteraunt. The people reclined in their chairs, chattering on incessantly to each other, sharply dressed waiters twirling around tables like clock work, emptying bottles of wine and removing half eaten parcels. 

 

 The Man smiled at a crisp, young man with a shock of orange hair, freckles adorning his high, milky cheekbones, the boy looked down, blushing beneath his steady gaze.  

 He snickered under his breath, looking past the boy and to the glass double doors, the entrance to the resteraunt. The boy came over, brandishing an amber bottle of liquor and offering it to him. He waved it away and handed the nervous, young gentleman a rolled up bill. The boy looked down, wide eyed and pocketed it, walking away swiftly.

 The Man straightened his shoulders, lengthening his neck in agitation, his tight wound curls bounced with his quick, easy movements. He ran his ivory fingers through the shimmering, dark tresses, making him appear uneasy and slightly agitated.           

                        

 The doors creeped open, a tall, aged and richly attired man held the door open, his chin high, veins pulsing weakly beneath his loosening skin. A young woman entered behind him, walking in slowly as if she was shy and weary of being in such a grand, ominous place.

 Her eyes widened and the older man coughed beside her reprimandingly, she gave him a quick glance and then flicked her eyes to the ground, folding her hands together and straightening her posture.   Her small stature made her seem frail and approachable.

 

 The Man smirked from across the room as his eyes taced the length of her body and then back up to her black cap of tightly woven hair, the raven locks pulled back into a smart, unadorned bun, a few whisps of hair had come undone, flowing freely around her small, meek face.

 Her eyes were a striking color of blue-grey contrasting with her pale, freckle dusted skin. She had small, square shoulders sweeping down into a milk white collar bone.  Her steady heart beat quickened  beneath her frail skin, she looked like a paper doll swathed in a pale blue dress that hugged her curves, enhancing the gentle wave of her body.

 Her gait was steady, nervousness causing her to falter a bit, her heels clicked against the marble tile and a few of the tables looked up at her, whispering to eachother and glancing around to other tables. 

  One of the older waitresses came up to them and spoke to the gentleman then turned and lead them to their table. The young girl looked fresh among these veterans of the empire, their biting eyes burrowing into her thin guise, her cheeks flushed as she met each gaze, watery eyes soaking up the blatant resentment, envy seeping into their very movements.

 The Man wanted to laugh at  the spectacle of a new, young face entering their gloomy, attention hungry world. He felt the mood changing as people sat up in their chairs, women adjusting their dresses and getting up to use the powder room. The men stared, gawking at the blushing beauty as she smiled meekly.  

  Her counterpart glared at them, peering through half closed lids and shaking his stern, awkward face. His hair was gelled to perfection, sculpted into waves of white and gray, he was younger than he appeared to be, the sour look on his face weighing down his features. She turned her attention back to him as they chatted quietly, The Man pricking his ears a bit to catch waves of their conversation.

 

  "Well, you just can't do things like....that's not the way it's going to be....I know you weren't raised correctly...." He heard the old man chastising her as she hung her head, fidgeting with the brilliant new rings adorning her tiny fingers.

 

  "I'm sorry..." He heard her tiny voice whisper sweetly, warmth flooded into the small, seemingly vaccuous space between his rib cage, he felt a flutter there, like something emerging from dark, incomprehensible depths.

 

 He lowered his eyes, searching his mind and finding that small flicker of remembrance, that tiny flame that he had felt ingite so many nights ago. He heard her laughter from across the room, trickling into his eardrums and deep down into his mind, echoing into that unknown darkness, that place that he could never find. What was happening to him, what was it that had brought him here tonight, so far from his home and into a world that he had left behind.

 He looked back over at her, a tall flaxen haired gentleman had come over to the table, he was bent over her hand, planting a gentle kiss on her fingers.

 She blushed, looking away in embarrassment and giggling, the man smiled and whispered in her ear causing her to blush even deeper. The older man sitting across the table scowled and spit out a few words. He apologized, giving her one last smirk and then walked away.

 

 The Man grimaced from across the room, feeling the gentlemans wretched, sinful thoughts from a distance, he felt his nostrils flare, blood boiling beneath his silk coat. He could smell the putrid, over compensating cologne emitting from the sly young body as he walked towards him to the bar.

 They caught each others eye for a moment, peering at one another as he slid into a bar stool and signaled the bartender. He ordered a brandy and a very expensive cigar, grabbing some matches off of the counter.

 

"Have a Brandy with me, sir?" Asked the gentleman, lighting his fresh, stinking cigar. The flame sparked and then died, leaving the rolled tobacco billowing with thick smoke. The Man gave him a sideways grin, lifting an eyebrow in contemplation.

 

  "I suppose..." He trailed off, watching the dapper young gentleman intently.

 

 He puffed at his cigar, peering back at the strange man dressed in black and could tell that he was the silent type, a man of little words and few expressions.

 He signaled the bartender and ordered the drink as The Man slid onto the barstool. He glanced over at the girl as she unfolded her crisp, white napkin the dim lighting caressing her feathery skin.

 

 "Charles Bringham the third, sir. and you are?" He remarked, offering his hand to shake. The Man looked down and then back up to the his smooth, condescending face.

 

  "My name is Athan" He replied, shaking his hand quickly and then pulling away and folding his arms up on the bar. The bartender served their drinks, placing them in front of each man. He wrapped his hands around them, soaking in the moisture, the spicey aroma wafted up into his nostrils, closing his throat. Charles drank his shot swiftly, placing the empty glass back on the bar and turning back to him.

 

  "I saw you watching her, you should keep a comfortable distance between the both of you, sir." He said, slyly, raising a thick, blonde eyebrow and smirking.

 

  "What does it matter to you?" Athan replied, smothering a growl and glancing over at him, the empty portals of his darkening eyes hiding the quiet rage within. The man straightened his posture, tugging on one side of his coat and letting out a slight cough.

 

  "Just let this be your warning" He remarked smugly, stepping down from the stool and laying a bill on the bar. Athan glared at him, contempt a glimmer behind his eyes.

 

Author's Note

Rough Draft, needs a lot of work still.

Reviews

good descriptions.

in the first paragraph you used 'room' twice in a row. "ebony eyes glimmering in the dimly lit room. He squinted a bit, peering across the dense, velvety room.."

the first part could be "ebony eyes glimmering in the dim light". or if you're trying to add more description as to what kind of light. was it candles? was it lamps?

i got the impression it was from older times. not sure if that was your intent, but if it is, i don't think they would've had 'waitresses'. they would be 'servants'. even now 'waitresses' isn't pc. they're 'servers'. ;)

[M.Kilani]

the details really took me to that place, the description of characters was professional, adding more description for the room as the story goes on is smart, gives a new image with every sentence, as if the reader is in the same room being a part of the story more like a camera rolling inside those walls, showing new items, shades, and characters as it moves sight along with angle, the auditory effects of both speech and background sounds were creative, so were the aromas I could really smell them ... but I believe adding those details can be considered by common readers as fillings, although I see them important parts of the theme, the events in the story emerge curiosity that capture the reader and grows a hunger for reading ... I personally can't wait to read the next chapter ... wonderful work dear keep it up

[A.A.Romanczuk]

Oh...I loved the descriptions of the people.....they're wonderful...I love how we find out the Man's name only when he begins to converse with Charles...I think after proofreading..this is going to be a stunning story when You're finished...I am absolutely intrigued :)

[David W Moore III]

very intriguing... a couple nitpicky things to watch for, both the Man and the girl were described as approachable (a bit repetitive) also near the end where charles and athan talk, you jump from athan's mind to charles' without much in the way of clues, its a bit disorientating. A few words could clear that up. All in all very interesting in a gothic sort of way. Post the next and send me a rr!

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the story. The characters were described with skill and the story line held may attention. I like the detail and the conversation. I like those dark bars and possibilities of opportunity in my years traveling with the Army. The story took me to a good bar and interesting surroundings. A very strong story.
Coyote

[JelliFyshKissUs]

Ah... your way with words is one close to my heart. The fluidic immersion of descriptions to glide us down your page of imagery is quite astounding.
"sharply dressed waiters twirled around tables like clock work"

[Bard Constantine]

Most impressive... I truly enjoyed this. A startling contrast to the gritty realism of the first book of yours. I loved the poetic flavor of description, the description of the unfolding scene. Could have been better formatted, but I blame that more on the transition from wp to here, I'd had hell trying to repair a simple cut and paste. Overall, a lovely piece of writing with few errors, I'd love to see this expanded into a complete story...

[Miary Andriamihalia]

Though it's a rough draft, it's still well-written. The attention to detail was great and I was able to picture everything as though I were watching it happen. It does have a lot of potential to grow into a grand tale and if it does I would very much like to follow up on it.

As this is a rough draft, I'll refrain from highlighting minor errors that can be easily fixed. One thing I would like to point out though in case it's overlooked is specificity and consistency. I understand that "The Man" is named this way in particular, but it almost confused me when I read the line, "The boy came over, brandishing an amber bottle of liquor and offering it to him, he waved it away as he handed the nervous young gentleman a rolled up bill, he looked down, wide eyed and pocketed it, walking away swiftly." I had to read this a couple of times to keep track of "who did what and reacted how" kind of thing. Also in the beginning, the main character is called "The man", which is later changed to "The Man", which initially, and perhaps foolishly on my part though, I thought a new character had been introduced for a brief moment.

Yet, in the end, it's a splendid read that captivated my interest from beginning to end. I really do hope to see how far it will go if you intend to do so.

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Nice story. It felt so clean. In my imagination I could have picked out a flake of dust from a mile away. It was nice work.