King Of Death (Book 1)

Chapter Two

Unknown
6:30 p.m.

Hayden Foster stared at himself in the obsidian glass. Muscles rippled across his chest and arms. His bright blue eyes looked inhuman in the obsidian mirror. His lips turned into a smirk as his black hair curled with the wind. Black and red walls surrounded him, hot to the touch. Hayden grinned as he put his left hand against the wall closest to him, feeling the heat upon his skin, but felt no pain.

A dark chuckle made his head jerk up. Death stood there in the middle of the room. The room was shaped as a circle. No corners or edges. The walls were smooth and attracted heat to it's surface. There were six people in the room. Hayden's three teachers, Death, and him. Hayden went to one knee and bowed his head. Death wore his robe with the dancing skulls, skulls of actual people. His black hair laid upon his forehead. A frown of assessment was placed on his lips.

His blood red eyes caught Hayden's blue ones. "Ah, Hayden Foster, you are a sight."

For three years, Hayden was sent down to Death's trainers for his training. Mrs. Helim was his psychologist trainer. Mr. Grin was his physical teacher. Mr. Dark was his demonic language teacher.

Hayden kept his head bowed as Death made his way to him. Death dragged a finger across Hayden's back, measuring how far he's come.

"So how ready you are?" Death's words came out smooth as if he already knew the answer.

Hayden looked up, his blue eyes staring into Death's blood red ones. He smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dark palace. "I've been ready since you asked for me, my lord."

Death smirked, his blood red eyes turning brighter. "Good," He brought Hayden to his feet, standing a foot taller than Death. The skulls reared back and gave an echoing laugh. "As my student and right hand, I give you your first mission," he says, looking within his eyes.

Hayden's blue eyes glowed brighter. "Them," Hayden snarled. Death nodded and handed him a piece of paper, made of bone.

The paper was filled with demonic drawings. Spending some of his training learning the demonic language, Hayden figured out the letter. He smirked, the words coming to him and he felt a rush of heat, an adrenaline rush.

Hayden caught Death's eyes. "What happens?"

"None of the ones you're after I had sentenced to death, only Karma, which is you. Three boys and two girls need to be taught that Karma is a bitch. You've mastered your new powers, showing me and the other realms of my palace that you are ready to complete this task," Death explained, his face turning dark.

"So, I have to choose a punishment suitable for the crime of a person?" Hayden asked.

Death smiled wide, his teeth gleaming in the dark. "Exactly. Now I send you off to begin the process."

Hayden gasped as a rush of dark energy rose through him. Death chanted RISE in demonic language. Hayden shot through the roof of Death's palace. The ground resisted him at first, pushing back, trying to suffocate him, but they released their hold after a while. Hayden reached the surface and landed in the place he had left three years ago, the place now covered with water from rainfall.

The sky was dark with clouds, but grey, as light tried to shine through. Nothing looked different. Hayden smiled. He started thinking about his plan, knowing the people he needs are still in high school, seniors this year. He let out a breath, trying to relax his body. He had to go home and make up a story to his father.

He trudged towards his old house, putting his hand in his pockets. He glanced down and forgot he didn't have a shirt. Hayden bit his lip, thinking of places to get one, when the ground rumbled softly, and a shirt floated from a small crack. Hayden chuckled and shook his head, grabbing the black shirt. He slipped it on and continued his way.

The clouds had started to part when he reached the house. No car was in the driveway and the house was trashed. The house was one story, with tan coloring with black trims and roofing. The lawn surrounding it was a brownish color and tall. Hayden grounded his teeth together. His father had moved. Hayden groaned and went inside. His bed was in the same room as when he left. His clothes were there too, but none would fit him now.

He sat on his bed, forming a plan. He's eighteen. By rights, he could go to the school and register. But would they ask why he went missing for three years? He mused with the thought for a few minutes before coming to an internal agreement. He would register tomorrow at Kingsmen High.

He fluffed his pillow out and laid down, his eyelids fluttering closed. He fell into a dark sleep. The clouds outside darkened and thunder rumbled.

Hayden woke up to a dim light upon his face. He laid there, thinking about all the times he woke up to the same light. He moved his head to the left and saw his window was opened, the sky outside was a soft grey. Hayden knew exactly what that meant in London. No rain. He kicked off the sheet that somehow wrapped around his legs. He climbed out of bed, in the same clothes as yesterday. He stretched, feeling his muscles loosen. He saw that it wasn't too early, and he grinned, knowing he was about to start his mission.

He left the house the way it was, making his way to the high school. He knew the way by heart. The town was quiet, something he wasn't quite familiar with.

The high school was located by a river, that was about six feet wide and eight feet deep. The school loomed about eighteen feet tall, with four stories. The building was a reddish-brown color, with ivy growing along the left side, facing the river. There were four roads intersecting each other, one to the high school, the others to the other schools. The students here saw each other, all day.

Hayden drew closer to the high school, seeing students laugh and yell at each other. He tensed in irritation, wondering how long he'll be here. He closed his eyes briefly as eyes turned to him, their stares burning their way into his skin, settling there.

He let out a sigh as the door slid shut right behind him, cutting off their stares.