Devon Holmes The Dragon's Mark by BONITA HIGHLEY - HTML preview

The Dragon’s Mark

In a room at the Grange Hall, Phineas Blaine, the butler sitting at his desk with cloth and a bottle of ‘Tarn-Off’, cleaning off the tarnish of silverware misplaces a spoon as it slips from his hand, falls to the floor. As he bends down to pick it up, he straightened back up to see an image of a dragon on the wall in front of him. In astoundment reluctant to move stared in dismay. Then, placing the spoon down onto the table, he ever slowly tread to the image staring at it, heard a noise leaving the room as he swiftly turned to see nothing. Seeing the possibility of what could come next, with an ounce of courage, he grasped the fire stick poker from the fireplace, the fire ablazed images unto the wall as though to display of the flames from the dragon. “Who are you!!?? I demand you to tell me who you are!”

Overwhelmingly consumed with severity need to heavily guard himself, taking the poker, swinging it around in his defense, hits the lampstand breaking it as the light goes out, and another, yet another until the room became dark, with only the dragon’s fiery flames around him, then tripped upon his own feet, or as though something else tripping him, losing the poker as he drops to the floor

unconscious, as the maid, entering into the room, seeing the shadow of a person promptly leave out of the room, leaving the Butler sprawled in fetal position only through the shadows of the dragons depicted flames, screamed…as her screams like that of echos, filled the room’s atmosphere, as though to set the revolving parameter of the room into an ever slowly moving rotations of the beginning of a new mystery unfolds.