This is a Prologue the story. It's kind of a ghost story. You might recognize the last name of the main character when I introduce her in the next chapter.
I don't own TPODG.
Harry stood by the door, trying to get his courage up. He wanted to enter. He didn't want to enter. Too many memories. His hand rested on the handle, then, finally, twisted it and pushed open the door. He shut the door behind him, and stared at the front hall. It hadn't changed. In fact, it felt as if the owner might come down the stairs at any moment, asking what Lord Henry was doing there at this Ungodly hour.
"Dorian…" The whisper echoed, seemed to carry through the house, and then died unanswered. Harry walked into the parlor, and threw himself on the sofa. Why had it come to this? His friends, his wife… they all left. Dorian Gray died, hideous and infamous, his wonderful beauty mysteriously reversed. His wife got a divorce, because he spent so much time with the young man. People had come out, after Dorian's death, with stories that practically turned his hair white. Had his words, spoken in hope of becoming to the boy what he had been to Basil, corrupted him? His high life of pleasure and games had cost Harry dearly. What had Basil said? "We shall pay for what the gods have given us, pay terribly."
His reserve shattered, and he collapsed, sobbing. What had he done? Everyone he ever loved, Victoria, Basil, Dorian… What happened? He used to be he one who laughed he most, and the loudest. Now he felt he would never even smile again. Hate blinds. Love blinds. Every emotion presented an illusion. When one was in pain, they could not imagine being healed. When you gave your life to pleasure, you died in bitter despair. Harry had faced the world, rich, taking things lightly, born and raised in comfort, never lacking for anything. But he would give anything for life to be the way it was. Or even better. Watching Basil working on a new masterpiece, dinning out, taking Dorian to the latest play… If it were a fairy tale, or a sentimental novel, he would be doing just that. But the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. You lost to gain.
The house stood, listening to the emotions. It formed it's own destiny, cast it's own curse. The pain would remain here.
But every curse can be broken…
It's kind of dark. But it's a fitting intro. I love TPODG. Especially Basil. He's my best friend. (At least, I wish he were.) This isn't great, but the rest of the story will be way better. It's set in the twenty-first century in a Victorian in London house that miraculously survived the Blitz…
Please read and review.