To be honest, I don’t fucking know.
Which is why I’ve decided to stop questioning these things and just live my life.
Suffice to say, my childhood was anything but normal. There isn’t much about my adolescence that doesn’t make me cringe. I’d rather not think about all the foster families I’ve been through, let alone how awkward high school was for me. Kids find other kids who love books strange. But maybe it was the fact that I kind of killed my father that kept them away from me.
Not that it is any use thinking about it. It’s just that this damned book that I’m reading is so much like my life that I keep recycling memories through my head. It even has the angry brother in it, just like mine, who hasn’t spoken to me in more than fifteen years. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.
Shaking my head, I place the book back onto the shelf and swallow away the lump in my throat. I shouldn’t get so involved with the books I read, but what can I say? They hit home quickly.
I get off the ladder and look around the library. Gazing at the people with smiles on their faces while they read my books makes me so proud. My life might have been a complete mess-up, but at least I had the audacity to build my own empire from the ground. This is the largest curated library in the state. All of this is mine and mine alone. Everyone who steps one foot inside here has a purpose, and that purpose is mine to fulfill. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted.
Too bad my father isn’t here to witness how great my life has become. In a way, he inspired me to work harder, move forward, and be who I knew I could be.
The man in control. The man with all the power. I craved it all.
What my father took from me all those years ago, I have regained fivefold. Even after his death, some wretched part of me needed to prove to him that I could beat him at his own game. That I could be the son that he’d wished he had. Better. Stronger. Smarter. Cleaner. Impervious. More powerful than anyone he could ever imagine.
And now that I finally am, it’s still not enough.
Those years of suffering have scarred me for life.
However, nothing prepared me for the scars that were yet to come.
Nothing comes close to the imminent dread washing over me as four men step into my library, desecrating my own holy ground.
Their auras are like poison, sweeping in to kill anything in sight. I can smell it from a distance, the stench of power. I recognize the smell; I’ve been living in it for years. However, this particular brand reeks of death.
I watch them enter my private space, their eyebrows rising at the sight of me. I stand still, tall, not intimidated by their blatant stares as they approach. With their gaze, they rip me apart, tear down every barrier that I put up for myself, shred my mask, and see through my soul.
“Are you Sebastian Brand?” the first guy asks.
Swallowing, I straighten my back to keep my posture. “Yes.”
“I’ve heard great things about you,” the man says, holding out his hand. “The name’s Arthur, Arthur Banks. And this is Patrick Figman, Lewis McBride, and Hubert Newman.”
Accompanying Song: “Girei” by Yasuharu Takanashi
They know everything.
All there is to know about me, they’ve learned.
I don’t know where, how, or why. But he’s about to explain.
“You seem surprised that we’ve come for you.”
“Well, I’m actually rather appalled at the fact that you seem to know every last detail about my life. Did you run a background check on me?”
He laughs. “Of course we did, but don’t worry about it. It only gave us more reason to pursue you. You are the best of the best, and that is exactly what we need. Someone with a pinch for detail, cleanliness, and above all, punctuation and the ability to keep quiet.”
I feel like they just dissected me. “Tell me why it is a good thing that you invaded my privacy.”
“We’re looking for a curator. Someone to watch over and catalog our rather … exclusive collection.”
I squint. “And you want me to do that?”
“Yes. You see, your background makes you the perfect curator for the job.”
“Not interested,” I say, turning my back to them.
I have to remain strong in the face of evil.
I don’t need to know them to feel it—the raw, insatiable hunger dripping from their pores. I can feel it with every vein in my body, which pulse with anxiety as I try to repel whatever is persuading me to come join the dark side.
“Do you not dream of infinite power? Wisdom beyond your current reach?” Arthur says. “We would give you anything your heart desires. More power. More wealth. Anything you want, it is within your reach if you work with us.” I frown, gazing at the books in front of me. I dare not think about the metaphorical bone he just threw in front of me, tempting me like a dog.