Prologue

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Freak woke one morning feeling... odd. He didn't know why, but he got the impression that today would somehow be a life-changing experience for him. Usually, when Freak had a life-changing experience, it meant either being beaten even worse than normal or getting a bit of cheese to go with his weekly slice of bread. Freak hoped for the latter.

Ignoring the feeling, the dark haired boy went to make breakfast for his Masters. It would take a miracle to change the eleven year old Freak's life by any substantial amount, and his Masters had made it very clear to Freak that miracles did not happen to the likes of him. Good things only happened to Normal People. Thus, good things could not happen to a Freak.

But apparently, strange and horrifying things also happened to Normal People like his Masters. For the last week, there had been about fifty letters (written on parchment, of all things) finding their way into his Masters' home, all addressed to someone named Harry Potter. His Masters had looked positively ill just by looking at the envelope, then they had both turned interesting shades of grey and green while reading the contents of the first letter.

His Masters now simply looked annoyed and had Freak burn the offending parchments in the fireplace whenever they showed up. Freak secretly wondered who this 'Harry Potter' character was and if he missed his mail at all.

Freak shook his head and stared blank-faced at the bacon he was currently cooking. Once it was cooked to a perfect crisp, he carefully took it off the stove and dished it out onto three plates, putting extra on two of them for Master and Young Master. Mistress wasn't as fond of bacon as the men of the house, but she did like some to go with her scrambled eggs. Next, he buttered the toast, setting out some marmalade and jams for his Masters to choose from. A variety of juices and a pot of tea also waited on the table to be consumed.

Looking over the table, he nodded in satisfaction and walked over to the sink, starting to do the morning dishes. By the time he was finished cleaning the pans, his Masters would nearly be finished eating breakfast and he could collect the plates to wash. Freak liked to believe that he had gotten fairly decent at his various house-keeping duties over the years.

Freaks weren't allowed to go to school, so he had plenty of time to practice while his Masters were out doing their Normal People things. When he was younger, Freak had been secretly envious of Young Master's education. Freak had wished that he could go to a school and learn things, even though Young Master made it sound terrible and boring.

Some small part of Freak still felt that way, but he had gotten very good at repressing his emotions until he didn't really feel much of anything at all most of the time. Freak had gotten very good at being emotionless.

Sometimes, Mistress seemed a bit disturbed at Freak's lack of emotion, but usually just shook her head and continued with what she was doing. Master, on the other hand, took his lack of reaction as incentive to hit harder, which seemed to amuse the man. So Freak continued to train himself to stop feeling, if for nothing else than to make his Master happy.

After all, Freaks lived only to serve their Masters.

Emotionless FreakOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora