Clive Dove and the Will of Fate
Clive never expected to make it out of prison alive. He didn't care too much about that. He didn't deserve to live. In fact, he'd thought about ending it a few times yet he remembered his debt to London.
Repaying his debts came first. No matter what work that entailed.
Yet somehow, there was pity taken on him. He was out of prison in only three years. The years felt like nothing to him and he despised that. Why would anyone do that for him, a monster?
That was the thought on his mind as he sat in the parlor of the great Professor Layton's flat. A cup of tea sat on the coffee table, growing colder and colder. He'd been staring it down for the past few hours as the esteemed professor sat across from him, questioning him.
"What are your plans to do now? Try to get into a good school?" His tone was as polite as ever, looking the young man straight in the eye.
"I… suppose. I don't know what university would want me among their students."
"I'm sure with a bit of persuasion, I could get you-"
"No. You don't need to do anything else for me." There he went. Snapping at the man who put him under his care. God, he was such an imbecile.
"Very well then." The older man's dark eyes glanced at the clock briefly. "I'd talk more but I'm afraid I must be off. Don't do anything rash while I'm away."
'Don't do anything rash' Bah! Like he can tell me what to do! A mocking voice entered Clive's head, yet he shoved the thoughts away. How rude of him. Showing such disrespect to the professor.
"Of course, professor." He murmured, staring at his scuffed up hands that hung limply in front of him.
The man tilted his head, studying his sullen face with caring eyes. "No need to call me professor, Clive. We are both adults here."
And that was the last time he saw him. After that, Clive had found himself occupied with investigating all the knick knacks and souvenirs that adorned the flat. There were photographs of Layton and his friends as well as small toys that must have belonged to his beloved apprentice.
That reminded him. Where was Luke? The boy was nowhere to be seen. And it was too early in the year for him to be in school so he must be on vacation.
"Odd." He muttered to himself, studying the parlor with great fascination.
Knock Knock!
The young man snapped out of his thoughts, hearing a light tapping on the door. It was soft enough that if there had been anything but silence in the house, he wouldn't have heard it. But should he answer it? Whoever was there would be expecting the professor, not a… not a monster like him.
Yet on the other hand, it could be urgent. His shaky hand reached for the door, pulling it open.
And on the doorstep, stood a girl.