He would be a Gentleman with all his soul, if he had one

Denne historie er en skoleopgave som vi skulle skrive. Det er en fristil, som I sikkert også hurtigt vil gætte.

Aleck is not what you'd call normal, nothing that surronds him, is normal. He's a Demon, so adopted into a troop of Elves, Demons, Sorcerers and other creatures, he finds himself looking for a reason. No. The reason, why he was raised the way the was, why he was made what he is today. He wants a reason. He will find it, and don't you dare stand in his way, if you don't want to die, that is.

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2. Chapter 2

He opened his eyes and looked down toward the end of the room, he found himself in. His left hand tightened around something and he knew, all too well, its form. His right hand was lifted and seized something over his shoulder, hanging on his back. He drew out an arrow of its quiver. Placing it upon the bowstring - patiently waiting there as a tame dog - he pulled his right arm backward, held it there to take an aim, when the walls of the room fell to the ground - backwards, luckily - and he found himself in a forest, instead of a room. He had not move a muscle while it happened and looks around, curious. It seemed as if there was nothing in the forest, but he knew better. A pair of running feet came toward him and he smiled lightly. A female figure came in sight and he knew there was more following her - in what they thought was out of his sight. A sharp sound echoed through the air, and the smell of blood filled it. More sounds followed the first and soon, he was surrounded.    Surrounded by bodies of - either dead or dying - females. One arrow remained in his quiver and he turned around, facing a man. This man looked at him, head tilted and a smile upon his face.    “Well done Aleck. More women you can add to the list, even at your young age. Only 131 years.” Aleck smiled. He knew which list his father was talking about. The list of women, which have fallen before your feet; as he put it. Females, who’d fallen before him. Even though he wasn’t even that old yet, they’d fallen before his feet in either pleasure, or pain. Just the way, his father wanted it.    Females, lying before his feet. An urge to walk away from this place, which he found himself in, came over him. Just leave it all behind, never sparing a look for the pathetic females, lying there. Even if his father had any idea about this urge of his, then he ignored it. He had always been good at that; ignoring what he wanted to do. A part of his charm, as his mother would say.   Is sneaking into his bedroom along with the maids, then a part of that charm too?   He thought and, honestly, he wouldn’t be rather surprised if it was. He knew his mother, and he knew his father. They didn’t care about who the other one screwed around with, as long as he or she was taken care of afterwards. Which surprised him, it made it look like they almost cared, but he knew better.   His father had taken a step toward the fallen females.  He smiled wide, not surprisingly; he’d always loved the destruction and death of others. He loved seeing pain scattered across the faces of others. A love, which had been passed on to Aleck, though it was less seen on him. He just tried to make it less obvious - not that it always worked.    He followed in his father’s footsteps (literally and figuratively) as he made his way through the path of corpses. He stopped at the corpse of a particular beautiful female. Her long blonde hair spread out, around her head, like a fan. She just lay there - looking... Fake. With her perfect blonde hair, her skin - spotless and white as porcelain, he had no idea of what her eyes looked like, her eyes were closed, and he didn’t care.    “What do you think of this one?” His father then asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. On cue as if he knew, that he just had spilled out his true meaning of this girl - of another victim of his.    “Hideous.” A simple word, which made his father’s smile grow even wider, if possible. “Oh, really?” He asked. He wanted to scream. Scream to his father that he could shut up, that he ought to be able to see how hideous all of this was, but he didn’t. Not to his surprise.    “Yes.” Then he turned around, looking the way, where his father first had shown himself. “Shouldn’t we get back? Or do you have more maids for me?” He sent a cold look back over his shoulders to his father. The latter look as if he was thinking about it, considering what to say. Aleck knew better.   “No, and if I keep sending them to you, then we’d run out.” He answered, smirking.    And we can’t have you running out of playthings, can we?  Alecks eyes opened. How strange. Wasn’t he supposed to lie at the bottom of the moat? His vision wasn’t clear. Blurry figures floated around above him, as shadows they leaned down over him. Maybe he was at the bottom of the moat? Maybe this was it for him?    He was going to die, right there and then. Something pulled in his lips. Both corners of his lips curled up, into a smile.    The smile disappeared instantly, when a hand delivered a hard smack across his face. His eyes shot open, and above him stood living and moving figures, not the blurry floating ones he’d seen before. A grin reappeared upon his lips, he knew those figures. He also knew - all too well - the figure that had slapped him. Although all he could see of her, was the light brown shoulder-length hair, which covered her face.    He moved his eyes to her and sent her an annoyed look. She was the only one, who’d ever consider slapping him and she’d never even tried to hide that fact. She showed it off, proudly.    “Iofiel, next time, just shake me okay?” He said, smiling slightly. She laughed and started to dance around. He sighed and another person came closer to him offering him a hand. He pushed this hand aside and got up by himself. With easy and elegant steps he walked to the man standing farthest away. Reaching down into his pocket, he drew out the piece of paper and handed it to the man.    “Here, Locke, your paper.” Aleck said and added with a grin: “With an answer on it.”   He was certain that Locke’s face changed, just for a second, when he took the paper in his hands. His confidence grew. Locke studied the paper and then sent him a curious, and slightly doubtful, look. His grin faded slowly.   “It is there. I saw him write-“ Locke raised his hand to silence him, a thing that wasn’t good in Aleck’s book, he didn’t like to be silenced. But he didn’t have a choice and shut his mouth - which was still open and ready for defending himself.   “No need for you to defend yourself, Aleck.” Locke said on cue. That man knew him well, too well for his liking. But he didn’t comment on it, he just nodded and his face became expressionless. This was a mask he put up, if he wanted to keep his true feelings - or what came closest to that - hidden or annoy Locke. Nothing could annoy him as his expressionless stone face.    “And there we have him, the uncrowned master of the stone face!” Locke said it loud enough for all to hear and he had his arms spread out, as if he was presenting something. A short and joyless laugh was heard from Aleck before his face again returned to its impassive mask.    “Well? What was on the paper, if it wasn’t the answer?” Some impatience had snuck into his voice, clearly not be mistake. The impatience almost filled the air between Locke and him. A female figure stepped closer to them, but she was stopped, by Locke’s hand - which he’d raised at her, the same way he’d raised it at Aleck.    “No reason to worry Leliel, there’s nothing to worry about.” He informed her. She stopped in her tracks, but still had a nervous look on her face. Locke shook his head, and turned his attention back to Aleck. “I actually never said, that it wasn’t the answer, but-“ You could feel the tension. The anxiousness was so thick, that you could almost feel it.    “It was an answer, just not the answer I had hoped for.” He finished. Aleck could feel how his muscles relaxed and he was sure he wasn’t the only one, whose muscles relaxed at that very moment.    “Then what does it say?” A calm, but rigid voice asked. All the head turned and look at the owner of the voice. He stood half hidden in the shadows of the trees, furthest away from the place, where Aleck and Locke stood.    “Ah Zephon, a great question, but I’m afraid that I can’t tell you just yet.” Zephon nodded, his face remained uncaring. Aleck turned around and looked at the people around them. He looked for a particular blonde haired guy. “Where’s Jerahmeel?” He asked - when he didn’t find him - looking at another blonde haired guy, almost identical to the one he was looking for. The blonde, Jerahmeel’s brother Jehoel, looked at him in return, and shrugged. He had an idea, which said that he didn’t want to tell him, because he hadn’t accepted his hand earlier. Another voice, a rough one, interrupted him in searching further for Jerahmeel.    “Why can’t we hear, what is written on the paper?” It asked. Locke turned his attention to he, who had spoken. “Meta, I’m afraid that I have to verify or disprove a theory first.” In unison, they all nodded.    “Now Aleck, why are you looking for Jerahmeel?” Locke asked, eyeing him curiously. “Because, he’s not here.” He answered simply and started to walk off, resuming his search. 

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