Masked Emotions // Dream6d

Chapter 4

Warning: Strong Language, mention of death, blood.

     Vincent panted heavily, shutting the door to his room. He sunk to the floor and put his head in his hands, thinking over his decisions. Was it right to keep the King uninformed? He may be a tyrant, but no one deserved to die so young!

     Then, he remembered all the lives that had ended because the King thought them less than himself. Still, it could be considered treason to withhold information. Was he aiding the criminal? He certainly wasn't on the Kong's side. He wondered more about the 'what if's' that could have happened.

     Soon, there came a knock at his door. He opened it to find his boss with a sleepy expression. " Oh good," his boss started. " You're back. Did you fall asleep?"

     Vincent bit his lip, deciding it was best to lie. " Yes, sir. The moment I got back to my room I passed out."

     " Right, okay. Well, Darryl's missing and no one knows where he is. The rest of the rooms are looking for him," his boss said with such little urgency that Vincent barely registered his words.

     His eyes widened and he pushed past his boss, running down the hall to the kitchen. He pushed through the door and saw a few other servants in there, all of them with a sleepy expression. The young man took note of it, and remembered not to look too awake. He rounded the counter to the place he'd seen Darryl's apprentice, and found the man attempting to sit up.

     Vincent rushed to his side and pulled him up by the arm. " Where's Darryl," he said quickly. Zak seemed to barely hear the question. Whatever drug the intruder had used, it was extremely strong.

     " Darryl? Oh, um," Zak slurred. " He was doing something. . . And then he wasn't. . . And I ran to get help and I knocked over the flour."

     " Get help?!" Vincent's heart sped up. " So he didn't just fall asleep like the rest of you- I mean us?"

     Zak didn't notice Vincent's slip up, but instead just nodded and rubbed his eyes. " I'm worried about him, you have to help him..."

Vincent quizzed the apprentice more, but it was no use. He was still too out of it. " Where were you last?" He asked for the fifth time.

" Bedroom!" Zak exclaimed, seeming to jerk awake. " He's still there! We have to go, we have to save him!" The short man grabbed the servant's shoulders.

" Which bedroom?!" Vincent asked, getting frustrated with Zak's inability to give a straightforward answer.

" His," the apprentice said after a long pause. " His bedroom, we were there and we were talking and then he shoved me out the door!"

" What?"

" He shoved me out the door, Vincent. He saved me and now he's in trouble!"

With that last bit of information, Vincent took off running. He ran until his lungs burned, cursing the chef for having a room on the other side of the castle. Finally, he stopped in front of an intimidating wooden door. He was horrified to see it open just a little, fearing what he would find inside.

" Darryl?" He called lightly, pushing the door open with a loud screech. He slapped a hand over his mouth at the sight of his friend.

The chef was sprawled out on the ground, blood puddling around his head. He knelt down next to his body and felt for his pulse.

Still alive, still breathing.

" What happened here?!" He questioned to no one. He felt a breeze push back his hair and he noticed the open window. " Him."

     Darryl let out a low groan. Vincent ran out into the hallway and flagged down a few passing servants. Though they were all sleepy-faced, they understood what he wanted them to do, and helped carry Darryl down to the kitchen. When they arrived, the majority of people were awake and active. People with previous medical experience rushed to the chef and checked on his wound.

     The boss went to report the incident to the King, who Vincent assumed was awake as well, none-the-wiser about his flame almost being snuffed. Darryl was carried back to his room with a guard to accompany him. The young man was surprised the King cared enough to send a even a 'Get Well Soon' down the servant's steps, much less a fully armored guard.

     Zak had recovered completely, and now sat in the corner of the kitchen with his head in his hands. Vincent approached him. The apprentice looked up with sad eyes. " He got hurt."

     Vincent nodded. " Astute observation. He did, in fact, get hurt."

     The smaller man rolled his eyes. " I could've done something! All I did was run around and fall asleep! I was just as useless to Darryl as everyone else was. I'm supposed to be his apprentice. . ."

     " No, fuck that! I'm supposed to be his friend!" Zak stood up suddenly, seeming angry with himself and the world. " He got me this job and I repay him by letting him get smacked around?!"

     Vincent put a hand on the young man's shoulder. " You couldn't have helped it. There wasn't anything you could do that would've changed the outcome! The drug would've still kicked in like it did for all of us."

     " It wasn't supposed to!" Zak hissed through his teeth. " It wasn't supposed to work on me!"

     " What is that supposed to mean?" Vincent whispered. Zak seemed to tense up.

     " I mean, I wasn't supposed to eat any of the food," he said quickly, but it felt like a lie. " Darryl told me it was for the King's guests, but I took a cookie anyway."

     " About that, do you know how the food was drugged? I thought there was always an attendant in the kitchen at all times?" The servant's boss said, joining in the conversation. Vincent noticed that he seemed a little flustered from his chat with the King.

     Zak had yet to relax his shoulders, sounding more and more uncomfortable with the conversation as it went on. " Uh, no! I can't imagine how or when!"

     " Strange," his boss commented. " Either way, you should clean yourself up, you look a little pale."

     The joke flew over both the younger men's heads, both in too grim a mood to notice it. Zak wiped his cheek with a cloth from his pocket, but it seemed to do nothing. He sighed, " I should probably bathe."

With that, he got up and left. Vincent's boss shrugged. " You too, Vincent. You should get some rest."

     The servant blinked, surprised that his boss used his real name, since he usually only called him A6D. The older man left to attend to other duties, and Vincent decided to take his advice, heading back to his room to try and wrap his mind around the situation.

     He entered his room and immediately he noticed something was off. His lantern was lit, despite him being out of matches, and a chair was knocked over. Gingerly, he walked to his desk, looking for anything that might've been out of place. He noticed a piece of paper that he'd never seen before. He plucked it up and read the two words inscribed on it:

     Don't scream.

    Vincent dropped the paper and let out a gasp.

     A hand covered his mouth.