A waltz with Magic- Chapter one: The Enchantress

Slick as a cat, dressed in black he slipped through the crowd like a rat through a crack. His hair was a gorgeous black, and seemed soft as silk. He wore an expensive tuxedo which was meant to be marveled at as he waltzed through the ball room floor just like any other prince or noble in the kingdom. No one could sense any hesitation in his proper behavior though for him it was uncommon behavior. The music was blaring, the brightness of the several chandeliers were blinding. He could feel his senses being over whelmed, but he would not let this stop him from gaining his reward. The woman he was with was not his accomplice though fitting for her part in his game. She wore a magnificent red dress which glistened in comparison to others around them. Minuscule round black beads enclosed her chest and in continued down her emaciated leg on the left side. While he was not truly interested in his partners fitting appearance, he played the part indulgently as he gently let his hand slip farther down her leg nearly under the purposeful slit in the side of her dress. She comfortably let her hand slip to his as well, though her performance of affection seemed much more convincing than his as they waltzed wondrously through the ball room gaining the attention of all as all had seemed to stop in sight of them if even just for a minute. His eyes began to lose sight of his goal as they began to sparkle in light of what could become love while he let his eyes stoop to her eyes. The song had ended and that was his cue, He suddenly remembered his goal as he kissed the woman he barely knew on the cheek and slipped into the depths of the large crowd. He casually slipped to the side as if to receive a drink; he only did this because he could somehow sense that he was being followed. Holding his glass of red wine (his usual treat) he glanced around only to notice that everyone was acting just as he was acting. So, he confidently decided to continue up the treads to the balcony where he was entitled to a meeting with a very important piece in his game. He was to meet a man nick named the Prince of Harden. To his surprise, he saw a women waiting for him on the balcony. However unexpected, he continued up the balcony “Perhaps she is his messenger” he thought to himself. He laughed aloud as he began to realize who his mysterious partner was. “It cannot be you!” he exclaimed. His English accent was harsh, but romantic in a way. “And why is that?” The woman inquired. “Are you the messenger then?” “Why would the enchantress need to send a messenger?” Surprised and quit startled he reached into his jacket pocket in search of the calling card which was slipped there days earlier. There were no words, only a picture; a picture of a witch on the balcony of a ball room dance floor. This picture had changed from its previous state of address which was that of the ball room, but with a picture of a mystery man and that man’s initials. “Why did you tell me to meet the Prince then?” There was a crack of fear in his voice. The enchantress was worth the fear of any man or woman. No one has successfully gotten away from the grasp of the enchantresses murderous hands. “If I did tell you of whom you were meeting, would you have come?” He didn’t respond, so she continued. It was in this way that the game had changed. “What is your name?” Her voice now boomed. He let his eyes wonder to the ball room floor only to see that no one was there. In fact, there wasn’t a ball room floor to speak of. They were in a castle now, one to be feared. The walls were a dark grey and felt as if they were caving in on you. She stopped him in his thought, “Your name?” She demanded again. “My…my…my name is Hector.” He stuttered in fear and she smiled cunningly. His goal was to meet the Prince of Harden and black mail him for more money with the diamonds he was going to sell to him. It was supposed to be a simple game as he had always thought of his jobs in which case he would end up taking advantage of his customers in one way or another, now it had become a game of life or death.

“Well Hector, I have a job for you. I hear you like jobs no?” Her voice was relaxed if not high pitched in a happy sense. Ironically, it was that which scared him the most. He didn’t respond; of course even if he could form the words, he wouldn’t know which ones to form.