The old man, certainly looked the part, he looked like an extra from a medieval drama. His blue silk cloak and dress skimmed the floor, his hat was the same blue colour with the odd few cartoon inspired stars.
He easily mingled with the party guests, giving them free photo passes, the majority of passes were for actual photos but the special treatment was reserved for only a select few. The only ones who would attempt to usurp him.
A metallic man, typically known as Zane was next on his list. He knew this one could prove difficult, he would no doubt question and calculate the outcome before the old man could even complete the transference.
The old man, dressed as a wizard, had already thought of this outcome. He had reserved a special procedure just for him. He quickly walked up to him, the nindroid was standing at the charity casino table, likely working out odds and placing his bets after a brief pause.
The wizard cautiously walked up to the costumed man. He noted that some sections of his impeccably bandaged face had started to reveal the titanium surface beneath.
"A free photo opportunity awaits you." He motioned Zane to follow and passed him a business card.
"I must say, this is very impressive. The attention to detail indicates a vast amount of research was undertaken in order to replicate the scenes required." His eyebrows had risen significantly, the only part of his face that could be seen, other than his liquid crystal eyes that were hidden behind transparent electrodes and faux glasses.
Zane walked around the large room. The scene's carried on around the corner, one part however, was curtained off.
"Indeed. You see many people here tonight, have favoured the armchair scene. The blank canvas, the action scenes, or scenes of villainy."
Zane walked around each scene, in the first room, his hands at his sides. Not daring to touch anything in case it was fragile, he didn't want to break anything.
"Scenes of villainy are, popular?" His robotic voice queried, a rising intonation at the end signifying his puzzlement.
"Not all scenes. The boat is very popular, as is the old and incomparable stately home."
"Stately home, impressive. This is a green screen, is it not? Does your computer give a good display of such scenes? How are the guests to know what is behind them when you take the picture?"
The old man took a moment to think about it. "Come I'll show you."
He got behind his computer and pulled up some recent pictures, that included the stately homes in question. "I just ask, which period drama they wanted to be shown in and kaboom the picture displays behind them on my screen here. They then see a perfect mirror image, in front of them. It makes it feels more realistic."
"Anyway, not all favour that scene. Some, it would seem, never sway far from their comfort zone. It may surprise you to know that actors and actresses here tonight, have favoured the macabre, the unknown or the romantic."
"I see by these photographs that Jay and Cole have partaken in the experience! May I have that opportunity?"
The old man smiled, "Of course, it is free after all. Call it a gift from the city of Ninjago, a gift to say thank you for all your hard work."
'The gift that keeps giving.' He thought.
Zane walked around the computer desk and took his place at a chemistry table. The liquids were set resin plastic, the venue couldn't afford real spillages after all, the dry cleaning costs alone would be extortionate. Most of the tools were glued to the work station, the Bunsen burner, again was fake. The nindroid thought the reason for that would due to the sensitive smoke detectors and sprinklers all dotted around both in here and no doubt in the main room where the main party was taking place.
"You enjoy this line of work?" Zane queried as he looked through the large clear glass magnifier before moving on to the smeared blood on the floor near a dropped scalpel. He placed it down carefully on the morticians slab nearby. "Even the blood is realistic, is it animal blood or a near substitute?" He frowned when he scanned it, it was human blood and from one of his brothers too.
'Oh if only you knew!….'The old man thought
"It is actually only a small part of the job I enjoy." The old man replied cryptically. "Yes, the blood is a substitute of sorts." He lied.
Zane stood back up, scanning the area for his brother, his scans revealed nothing. His eyes narrowed. "Why do you do this?" He asked with some uncertainty. Trying to stall for time.
"I see the enjoyment in their faces and it is eternalised in the photographic quality. The whole experience speaks for itself Zane, would you like to try it?" The old man asked, a hand held device firmly in his grasp.
Zane recognised the remote control, thinking it might be something to do with the camera or the computer, maybe the green screen and corresponding LCD display. Yet he was still oddly cautious, and it would appear that same feeling was felt by PIXAL. Something was off, he couldn't place it, he hadn't seen Cole or Jay for hours.
He scanned the room for exits, there was only one way out of here, and that was back through the door he had originally come through. In order to get out he would need to get past the old man. Easy enough for a ninja who could move and anticipate any attacks coming his way.
"Careful Zane, the small hand held device he holds does not seem to be linked to his computer." PIXAL spoke into his internal consciousness. He answered her without verbalising anything. He couldn't afford for the old man to know he had been figured out.
"What is it PIXAL? Can you identify it or what it does?" Zane questioned internally, as he took his place, back at the chemistry set prop. The photographer then took his place behind the camera and proceeded to take the pictures.
"I cannot, I am sorry. But it would be wise to use caution." She replied. "Be careful Zane, the blood on your finger belongs to Jay."
Zane's face remained emotionless, it was largely hidden behind bandages. Inside he was worried. "That could have simply been an accident, it was after all a scalpel."
"Potentially an accident, but the blood has traces of a sedative."
Zane stared at the old man, he was partially obscured by a large black blanket over the top of his head as he stared into his own camera. Everything was normal up until he pressed his hand held device and then Zane couldn't see anything at all.
"PIXAL? PIXAL!"
"Zane, calm down. The device he just used was capable of delivering a power surge. The result of which, indicated a momentary system reboot."
Zane opened his eyes, he was standing upright bound in chains and vengestone shackles. He was completely immovable. His front panel had been opened and his talk button had been switched to the off function.
"It is so much harder to send a metal automaton to the past, when the only entertaining things that were from that era were mere song birds and conscious-less entities in robot form. Of course nothing of your engineering magnitude would be seen for at least a hundred and fifty years later, give or take!"
Zane simply stared at the man, his face incapable of terror just anger. "Zane, I am rerouting all of your auxiliary power to your arms. The power alone should guarantee your escape." The nindroid nodded in response.
The man approached, closing the gap again. "Besides, where you are going, You don't even need a body. I guess that's lucky for me though, I'll have a permanent photo opportunity. One of the ninja immortalised as a photo prop."
He pushed the device into Zane's open panel and pressed the button again. He watched as the nindroid shuddered violently before attaching a device of his own creation to the head of the robot he knew to be called Zane.
It was too late, PIXAL couldn't prevent it, Zane was completely unresponsive. The magnetic device around his head was blocking her input, distorting her signals and CPU commands.
"A little electro-magnetic stimulation always works wonders, not particularly good for anything with a motherboard, chipsets, intricate Pentium neural drives, DID's or RAM. Harmful for those backup drives and any optimized interfaces too, so I hear."
Zane was wheeled through to the curtained off area. He was standing upright on a parcel trolley, dragging chains behind him as he moved. He was placed directly of a glass tube, the same blood was in there too. Only small amounts of it though, in one area.
"I know you are thinking it, yet you're unable to speak, and for good reason too! But I won't tell you, why would I make it easy? Besides you'll find out soon enough."
"All these characters are so inspiring, don't you think? True legends, as of course were the authors, forever held in history, in high esteem. But what of the enemies of the legend?"
"The legends and of course, the enemies of those protagonists. The infamous yet all important antagonist." The old man quickly lifted the lever, he placed the instant photo he had taken of Zane.
The picture, as you would expect, looked remarkable. It looked like the front cover of the actual book. Zane's bandaged appearance was uncanny, of course anyone could have emulated that look, given the time and patience to bandage intricately.
He twisted the dial slowly, "You all have them, that weakness."
Zane thrashed in his shackles, he felt weakness. His energy was slowly depleting. PIXAL had somehow been affected by the magnetic head piece stuck in place around his temples, blocking direct input from where PIXAL's drive was located.
"What I mean is that you all have enemies. The only weakness, the only flaw and one you will all have a chance to figure out." He said before connecting Zane's consciousness to the machine that had previously been used on Cole and Jay.
"And here is the best part…..even the villains have an enemy. There's always someone to take you down. The monster finally kills the creator, although the drugs and mental state certainly help. The aggrieved vain young man ends his own life, in a fit of rage he cuts his own picture. But spoilers, I digress, you'll all find out soon enough."
He didn't smile but turned the dial up quickly, this time however Zane's body did not vanish. The shell that was once Zane remained. His body wasn't needed, just his consciousness, after all he was dressed as the invisible man.
Zane stood up rapidly, he was in a sitting room. It all looked so familiar, brown leather studded furniture with curved mahogany furniture. Bare wooden floors with a large oriental rug laid in front of an inglenook fireplace.
He walked to the window, outside was a snowstorm unlike any he had ever encountered before. He quickly fumbled in his housecoat as the item of clothing lay draped across a chair. He slowly pulled out a sepia styled photograph.
Looking at it in confusion, the photo was dog eared and creased in areas, he couldn't remember exactly when it had been taken, but pocketed it again in case he remembered in the mean-time.
He walked back to his warm armchair and sat, the morning paper had been left on his table by the owners of the inn. The headline was an article that made him frown.
"Why do they shame good creators like this? His reputation must have been awfully tarnished." He whispered and stared at the picture of the desperate man who had a straight jacket on and a maddening stare at the photographer who had dared to take his photograph.
Regardless he opened it to the page in question and continued to read about the news article in great depth. The man in question was sitting in all his nakedness, the newspaper held up in front of him. The scene was surreal, to any passers-by, it would have looked like a ghost was holding the paper up and flicking through the broadsheets, yet the reality was that it was in fact, the invisible man.
Of course no one would be desperate enough to walk about in this weather, let alone travel by horse and carriage. The roaring fire would keep anyone inside at this time of year.
A knock at his door broke him from his concentration. He stood and made his way to the large front door of his temporary accommodation. He was staying there due to being chased away by villagers in his old town, they had deemed him as odd and noted his behaviour as strange. So now the place he was holed up was called 'Iping Inn and rest stop', so named because that was exactly what it was and where he was.
"Griffin, is it Mr Griffin?" The young black haired male asked, he was looking down at the floor where he assumed the man's feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn't actually see the person who stood behind the door.
"Depends on who is enquiring!" Came the bodiless voice.
'I do much favour Zane for some reason.'
He stood precariously under the storm porch, the whole thing was covered in a foot of snow which threatened to fall off at any given moment. None more so than if the person inside slammed the door shut. "I mean you no ill will, I am here to…..talk."
"Who are you?" The voice questioned, threateningly. He looked at the young man who had a swathe of black hair under his rather expensive looking top hat. His entire outer clothes were covered in a thick sheet of snow.
The young man removed his hat, reluctantly. It was after all providing a level of warmth, along with that of his suit, coat and scarf. His manned carriage stood nearby, that alone was as black as his clothes were, even the horses were black. The horseman however, was almost white, typically covered in snow from the current swirling mass that was a snowstorm.
"My name is Dorian Gray, at your service. My apologies." He bowed slightly and grinned, a lopsided toothy grin. "I am here to offer you a place of solitude and shelter, one where you will be safe."
The man considered this for a few seconds. "I am listening, please continue."
The younger man shivered, "Maybe you could invite me across the threshold! It is after all cold out here, blowing a gale, most terrible weather."
"Blowing a gale? A blizzard is more appropriate is it not?"
"Please Griffin, may I pass?" The young man shivered again.
"Of course, where are my manners?" The bodiless voice answered and opened the door apprehensively. "Please come in."
The door opened fully and he stood to the side to let his guest enter. The man known as Dorian Gray entered the small inn and walked into the front room. There was no-one else here, likely everyone was at home celebrating the season of perpetual goodwill.
Dorian, it would seem, exuded pure charisma from the outset. The young man who had rid himself of his snow covered outer garments was standing up near the fireplace, looking every bit the eligible bachelor as he rested his forearm on the mantelpiece.
Yet Griffin noted that he wore no wedding band, warranting an idea that this was a man who wasn't necessarily interested in wooing females for marriage purposes. He had watched as the young man placed his cane down, and his top hat. His outercoat and leather gloves were placed carefully on the hat and coat stand before he had entered the sitting room.
Griffin had seen the labels, a sense of jealousy. They were all top known tailors and dressmakers in London, a far cry from these parts in West Sussex. A half day of travelling if he had to guess correctly, even more so in this weather.
Dorian waited until his friend was seated before talking. The sound of creaking leather and groaning wood made Dorian know that he was sitting.
"I have been waiting for years to meet you in person." He finally said rubbing his hands in front of the fire.
"Really? I am popular I guess. I cannot help it, it seems to happen where ever I go, alas it is not always positive though." The voice said, purposefully missing out the parts where he was betrayed.
"You are not safe here Griffin, And I know this probably sounds really quite bizarre but, I believe you would be better coming with me." Somehow Dorian hated using the name Griffin, it didn't sound right.
The invisible man grew irritated but stood at the sound of commotion coming from nearby. Dorian, similarly walked to the singular panel glass fronted window. They both peered outside, perplexed and surprised to see a mob of people. They were beginning to converge nearby, even in the blizzard weather. "That, my friend, is our cue to leave." Dorian noted and grabbed his clothes quickly.
"I-I, how can I be sure that I can trust you? We have only just met!"
Dorian flicked his long black hair from his face. "Well, you can trust me or you can see what they have planned for you." He pulled his black gloves back on. "Somehow and personally, I think my option sounds more fun!" He replied quickly and flipped his hat onto his head effortlessly.
"Look, I'll provide you with everything you need and I will endeavour to tell you everything I know on the way, but you need to choose. I cannot force you, however it would be in your best interests."
The mob got closer still, although it appeared that they were struggling to overcome the fat billows of snow accumulating. The snow in this form, looked like white waves in a tempest, precarious to any who wandered into it unknowingly. Not just that, but the fact that there were lakes and rivers nearby, some frozen over. The potential for a cold painful drowning wasn't far away at this time of year.
"Your answer?" Dorian grew anxious. He looked to his carriage and signalled to his horsemen of his impending arrival. He knew his horses were fast but in this weather they would struggle to overcome the depth of snow that was beginning to pile up. He scooped up the newspaper and angrily threw it into the fire, knowing who the man on the front page was.
'Sorry Jay, you'll be safer in the asylum for a few more months at least.'
His carriage wasn't laden with any undue heavy weight. Furthermore, it was the best carriage money could buy in this day and age. Both lightweight and robust and his personal preference, it was as black as a hearse to avoid any nosy Parkers.
The invisible man took one more look at the mob and decided then and there to take the tall dark and handsome, strangers offer. "I accept." He said and followed eagerly out of the ramshackle inn and into the sturdy yet sleek black carriage.
"You won't be disappointed." He said with a cheeky grin.
Written in less than a day, boom!
for Master of Cupcakes.
Mind you I have written 550k in fiction in less than eight months.
For those of you who might be confused,Dorian Gray doesn't age, as long as his picture remains safe he's immortal. He's found 2 brothers so far because, well if I you anymore, it'll be a spoiler.
Griffin is the name of the invisible man in the books.
He didn't tell Jay that he had read the books extensively & it sort of helps that he's loaded.