Phoenix

Rhade phoenix was a seemingly pleasant, well mannered gentleman, but inside, the resides many a dark secret, and many an unanswered question. Rhade was over 126 years old, yet on the outside, looked a mere 25. On top of this, sickness had never touched his body, bones had never broken and cuts had never scarred. Rhade could not explain his resistance to anything detrimental to himself, but desperately seeked the answers, and across his journey to come, he would search tirelessly for them, and in

The rain that fell sick with lament crashes into the glass pane's of the windows, aside from one, one window was left open, and the rain lashed against the face of the dimly lit man which sat infront of it, unblinking, the man stared off into the distant lights of the city, the city which he had grown disgusted with, and the city where he would seek his vengeance.

As the rain slowed, the man stood to his feet, grabbing his hat and placing it atop his head while doing so, and would proceed towards the door at the back of the room, careful not to slip as he dragged his feet across the dank, wooden floor on which he stood.

As the man found his way to the old, yet pleasant, armchair that resided in the center of the living room, he slowly sat down, and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a picture, depicting a woman wearing a white dress, laden with a variety of fine materials. The man brushed his finger down the womans face, and shut his eyes, remembering her gentle nature and curiosity for the unknown. As the man's eyes opened once more, there was a different look in them, one of anger, he gripped the picture tightly, straining the frame which held it in place, "I swear on my name, Rhade Phoenix, i shall set you free" he would say, biting his lip to refrain from getting into a state, from here, he would place the picture on the side table that sat next to the arm chair, and he shut his eyes once more, drifting into the realm of sleep.

The End

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