They arrived undetected. Though, at the front gate, a golden, fabulous work of art, it looked like their invitations were look at longer than they expected. Nevertheless, they were let in. They stepped out of the black limousine. Stone kings, queens, gods, and goddesses stood on pedestals, keeping watch of the green, freshly-cut lawn and it’s white and gold flowers. Up the steps, the large, wooden doors, embellished with carvings of roses and dancing lovers, were opened before them by doormen who towered over them. They must of been about two feet taller than Ignas at least. They smiled thinly as their eyes followed them in. As soon as they were past the doors, Marcus nodded at them and made his way up the stairs, smiling and nodding at the other guests as he went. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get caught, and find some valuable information. If so, then the mission would be a success and the three of them could leave as soon as possible. “Do you think they’re suspicious?” whispered Charlotte, keeping her eyes forward as they walked. Ignas took her arm lightly and smiled. “Don’t worry, we will be in and out before anyone notices us.”
They turned on their cameras with a small switch on the rings they wore. The contact lenses they wore would now record everything they saw. “Just mirror their feelings. Smile and laugh, and we’ll fit right in.” Assured Ignas. Charlotte followed, trying to make her grin look the least forced as possible. The ballroom was filled with the chatter of well-dressed guests. The great crystal chandelier lit up the marble floor and the golden figures of ancient peoples that emerged from the white walls. Everything was clean and sweet smelling. Some guests were overjoyed and close to tears. Excitement ran through the hall as more came in, as the sound of small bells rang. “He’s coming! I can’t wait!” Ignas heard one woman with golden curls say, gleefully. “I've been waiting for this day for years!” said a man next to him, who giggled like a child just given a handful of candy. On the velvet stage in the ballroom, a man, who looked to be in his the mid-40s with white hair and blue eyes that were wide open, grinned and waved at his delighted guests. He wore a blood-red suit and a white dress shirt underneath. Ignas got a buzz from his headset. Must be Marcus, he thought. So he pretended to stifle a cough to talk to Marcus. “Find anything?” He said quickly into his ring. “Do NOT drink from the glass." He responded, "I’m almost done here, man, just hold on ‘till then.” Ignas tapped Charlotte’s shoulder, and whispered the warning to her. For a moment, Charlotte looked apprehensive, but she regained her composure to keep an awkward smile. Though, her eyes kept darting back to him, as if to say “Why? What’s in the glass?”
Several serving women wearing purple albs walked gracefully among the guests, holding silver platters with wine glasses a quarter full. Every guest happily took one. Ignas and Charlotte took the glasses offered to them. In it was a red fluid that smelled like roses. The man in the red suit spoke. “Oh children, my beloved! I am overjoyed to see all your happy faces. Tonight is the night where we will fly to the new world with our adored prince!” The crowd cheered, and some embraced each other. Ignas and Charlotte joined in as well, to not stand out. A door behind the stage opened, and an oaken bier with a silver and gold casket resting on it was lifted by four men as large as the ones they saw at the door. Unlike the congregation, they did not smile and had faces as hard as stone.
The man in red walked up to the casket and opened it. “Behold, our prince! Our savior!” The crowd echoed, “Our prince! Our savior!” Neither Ignas or Charlotte could even pretend to cheer, bewildered by what they saw. In it was a skinless body, wrapped with gold and copper wires. It’s blood stained the satin within the coffin. On its face was a white, polished porcelain mask with holes between the lips, in the nostrils and in the eyes. Underneath, was only darkness. On it’s scalp was long, white-blonde curls. It’s hands were folded upon its chest. “He’s beautiful!” shouted the voice of an elderly woman. Ignas looked to Charlotte, who was terrified, tears running down her cheeks, though she tried to smile. She tried to make herself look like they were tears of joy. Though, Ignas, himself was rigid from the horror before him. It began to move. It moved smoothly, and slowly. It swayed it’s head, sweeping the room, as if amazed at the sight of all the people. It admired its skinless hand, the wire’s gleaming in the chandelier’s light as he twisted it. It tilted its head to the ceiling, embellished with a grand painting of the firmament. the eyes of numerous winged men looking down on all of them. A painful sigh came from the holes of the mask, and blood came pouring out of each of them. From its eyes, the man in red cradled its head and caught it’s bloody tears with his wine glass. Ignas looked at his own glass. His eyes met Charlotte’s. They were full of terror, and so was his.
ns 15.158.61.17da2
