"Which way to the arena?"
He turned and looked at the lad as he stepped out of the castle. Out of the gate. He yet retained his composure and his eyes were what he used to know. The Cod yet had a last thought about the castle. Whether or not he would go there. Whether or not he would return there after leaving the arena. That thought actually or action should be determined or spelled out by quite the numbers of things. He knew that. That was what it is. If he did kill Ja Lia and toss his head to Medusa, of course he would make his choice. Whether or not return to the Castle. He hadn't thought of killing the Monarch when he'd left for his abode. But when nature demanded it, he was left with no choice. But at that moment, of course he could make his choice. He could choose whether or not he wanted to return and be their monarch. He could choose whether or not a part of him wanted to govern over the h
"Or uhmmm...." He tried as much as possible to distract himself. He wouldn't be owing his stray of actions to anyone but himself. He didn't give a damn about taking responsibility for all he had done. Didn't always matter to him. He simply only wanted to be distracted for the sake of the lad. To himself, he was doing the lad a favor. He didn't want to kill him and therefore must pretend he was not seeing him. He had no idea why he was even nursing that thought of killing him. He tended to take delight in pain and gores. He didn't care who was affected. All he cared about was what good it did poise at him. He was quite the quaking psychopath. He had tried so many a thoughts out but none at that moment to him was worth his while. He didn't want to keep reeling from and over what had been evenly walked. His eyes were beginning to widen. He was making rage of his life. He was enraged by nature. He hated to ad
. "What do you think is happening?" He wasn't sure whether or not that was the right question to ask. But he was sure of what not to think. He didn't want to nurse the thought that he had been played as a fool by the Nymph as well as the callous Ja Lia. He hated to nurse that thought. And he was afraid that that thought might turn out to be just the truth. He wouldn't be able to help himself get over the thought. He would never be able to help himself. He hoped twasn't what he was thinking. But what was it if twas that. Tcouldnt be anything other than that. He knew that. He didn't want to keep telling himself lanky lies. He needed to be frank with himself. That was not far-fetched. That was not too much to ask. How would being frank with oneself be too much to ask? He knew twas a cake walk but twas the effect on his eerie emotions that scared the crap outta him. If he began to nurse that he might hav
"Could we talk about something else?" He was getting bored out by the Conscience thing discussion. He wouldn't keep to that forever. Twas becoming annoying to him. He could use some new thoughts. The lad seemed very serious and was speaking as though he had been paid for it. He did admire some qualities in the lad but he would never admit it. He had never admitted such and wouldn't start doing that. He could use some better options. Even if the lad did have his strength with conversation, that didn't make him all bossy and didn't present him as an error free warthog. If he did give it time, he would be able to identify quite the numbers of odd stances about him. But that time was what that was outta his reach. He couldn't get to it. He had been trying. He matter-of-factly didn't have power over time as time had no say over him. At least, that was what he believed. His fate was foiled by rage and wa
. "How long more?" His eyes wanted to have themselves isolated. He knew that he wouldn't have to decide for them forever. He was just being a watcher till the taunted time would drag by and he was patiently waiting for the time. His rage was having its best position. He knew what he was going to do when he did set his eyes on the Nymph and the crazy Ja Lia. That would be some spectacle for the lad. He knew that the lad would by heaven and hell be displeased with him. He didn't care. He never did and would never. He wasn't that kinda guy who was easily moved by such. He even loved such stances. They were his jolting joy. They prune his gaunt gay. Would give him rusty reason to hurt and boss. Well he hated bossing. He loved asserting. He loved blood. If he wasn't getting the two, he wouldn't get anything else. He was just going to keep lagging. Lagging in thoughts until reality snap at him and make c
"Wake me up..." The lad looked around him as though he was in search of something. Like he was charmed or spelled or had been brainwashed by some apt alakazam. He couldn't rely on his instinct. He felt like it had been defected by what he couldn't fathom. Like he was hallucinating. Probably he wasn't in his sewn sense. Probably twas getting sewn and he was just an onlooker. He probably was a part of it or had paid for it or was seeing it. He couldn't be be so sure. And of course he needed to sure else he would be a die tossed about like the tip of the hay like the May's wanky winds. His rage was burnished in rage. That was ironical. He didn't know what he was feeling. He was sure that his feelings were just pulling salient strings he couldn't alter. Probably he could be the conductor or spill his odds. Like the faggot of a god would spit its lava. He could puke his guts and watch time have the best
"Where are we?" He looked confused. His eyes widened. He wasn't sure if he had ever been there. He tried to concentrate. Like was he dreaming? He couldn't be sure. He had never felt such urge neither had he savored such aroma of such moment. He hated being confused. He could kill for it. He had killed for it. He had punished for it. He had marred for it. He had done quite the numbers of things for it and would keep to such. He didn't know what was going on and didn't know how to figure out. That was way complicated. If there was another word for that, of course he would say. If there was another qualitative pull to it or semantic denotations, he would had embraced it. He looked hastily around. Yea! They were all there. Was he dreaming? No of course. He had been in the arena. The crazy arena. The mystery arena. The lofty offshoot of contemplation. He didn't want that to have the best part of him. He
"At your call." The porter bordered the locks of the gate and then opened. Took him quite the while before he was able to pull the gate to himself. He probably had been having his best time. Probably he was an offshoot of merry, or the leftover of pain. As he opened the gate, he caught the glimpse of the lad firstly, then the Cod, then what? A leopard, hell! He had only seen leopard at the arena when he did have the opportunity to visit there once. He hadn't seen one like very close. He knew he might simply collapse but that was not the best thing to do. If he did collapse, the leopard might yet eat his unconscious draw. He wouldn't watch that happen. No of course! He wouldn't be able to watch it happen. He was just going to feel the pangs and odds all over him. He hated that feeling. He didn't want to savor it. He didn't want to have a taste of such bile. Twould bruise his mercy and make his breath
"Medusa guide this." He knew that that was a stray. That was no actually what he wanted to say. He had never believed in any spiritual being and wouldn't start at that moment. He allowed his mental ken to expand. Twas porous and could absorb facts which were remote. He didn't have much time to entertain guesses. He would be bent on other things but that. The lad was not getting it. He was sure that the lad would never make meaning of such stances time had supplanted. He was the only one acquainted with the malady and of course, he would attend to it. Twas worth fixing, he wouldn't hold back. His pain was about to be channeled. His rage about to be soothed. He was at the prime of attaining the hoisted heights he had longed for and he could feel it. It could feel the rays of contentment flickering over his consciousness. He didn't want to be bewitched. He simply needed to act. Acting was the