Something From Nothing

Gay And Directionally Challenged

Achilles

The walk to wherever we were meeting the King was a long one. The house we were in was huge and I use the word house lightly, it was more of a palace than anything which would explain why the King himself was living here. Never-ending winding corridors spread out in every direction and red and purple colors seemed to line every hall. The carpets looked softer than I thought a carpet could be and there were various chandeliers and ornaments decorated throughout every area we passed.

Just as I was about to start complaining something caught my eye that had me straying away from the small girl in front of me. I took a quick left instead of going straight on like her.

"Where the hell are you going?" Mister Hetero yelled from behind me. I moved quickly letting my feet carry me so I could soothe my curiosity.

Just as I reached my destination a hand gripped my upper arm. A static-like sensation flooded up my bicep causing me to react impulsively. I maneuvered myself quickly so his arm was bent in an odd position forcing him to release me. "You really enjoy hurting me don't you?" He growled.

I grinned. "You always make it so easy."

My eyes strayed to the art in front of me. "This is a Degas," I muttered stepping back to get a better look at the framed piece.

It was one of his later pieces. The Swaying Dancer, originally known as Danseuses Basculant in French. Said to be drawn between 1877 and 1879, it was created in a period of impressionism and modern art. Degas had produced endless pictures of ballerinas with media such as paint and pastels during his career. It appeared to be a passion of his. This specific piece was made with pastel and gouache. It portrayed a group of ballet dancers during a performance. It was an amazing piece.

"You know your art." A voice spoke interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, "I've seen a lot of it. Why do you have this? This is supposed to be in Madrid."

The Alpha nodded, his eyes drifting from me to Degas' work. "It was. Until two years ago it hung in the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza in Madrid but we received it as a gift of appreciation after we helped them with a wolf problem they were having a few years ago."

I nodded again. Such a beautiful drawing locked in a palace where no one got to see it. I hoped these people here appreciated it.

"Dudes come on. The King awaits." The girl shouted from the other end of the hall that I had drifted down.

"You know maybe I could just stay here. I'd much rather stare at art than talk to the King."

The Alpha scoffed. "Come on Dickens. You can stare at it as long as you want later."

Snorting I followed him down the hall, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Bold of you to assume I'll still be alive later." We started walking back to wherever we were going, the girl staying a few feet ahead of us, trying not to seem like she was eavesdropping on every word we said. I stayed silent, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

We finally stepped into a huge hall but before I even started to appreciate the decor my eyes instinctively started searching out potential escape routes for if the King really did try to behead me or send me back to Last Rites.

There were three doors that I could see. The first was the one that we had just come through and I knew I wouldn't be taking that one as I didn't see an exit outside at any point during that ten-mile walk from Mister Hetero's room.

The second was at the opposite end of the huge room. About 50 feet away it was guarded by two heavily armed guards who watched me with blank expressions. I could probably get out that way if I tried but I feared the guns they had at their side were either pumped full of Ash metal or tranquilizer and I didn't want to go through that again.