The sun burned brightly in sky, causing everything living under it to swelter in the summer heat. Despite this fact, one wouldn't have been able to guess it by looking at the scene below. The streets of the small town bustled with activity, enough to toss up dirt into the fiery sky. Wagons and carriages ran up and down the street, carrying various loads. Some were people, others weren't. Young children would chase alongside these street vehicles, trying to get a peek at who or what was inside. On either side of the street, market stalls were still being set up. From the ones that were, that clear Southern twang rang out, calling on potential customers to buy from them.

From his pocket, a young man drew out his family heirloom: a silver pocket watch. Unclasping the lid, he looked down to check the time. Half-past one. Louis Barnes let a sly smirk touch his lips before snapping it shut. Shoving the medallion away, Louis glanced out from the alley where he had tucked himself away.

It should be about that time, he thought to himself.

Just as soon as the thought had crossed his mind did he hear it. A voice. But not just any voice. It was one that he recognized from years of quiet observation. It struck Louis as odd that he wasn't hearing it in the fields that day.

Nevertheless, this was what he had been waiting for. As if he had been doing it all his life, the young man dashed out from his hiding spot and towards where he knew the voice came from. Without giving the vender a chance to blink, Louis grabbed a peach from the stack and sprinted off. A sound of distress immediately followed him, but he was already on his way. Louis let out a mischievous laugh as he dashed down the lane, leaving his victim in his dust.

Louis loved this feeling. There was nothing greater. The thrill of the chase and the breaking of taboo by stealing. And the best part about it: there would be no consequences.

Jackson was a family slave. It was his turn that day to run the family's stand along with another slave who Barnes had not bothered to learn the name of. Two were there as some kind of mutual assurance that nothing would be stolen. Something Barnes had also not bothered to learn. Either way, it didn't matter to his plan.

A few days ago, Jackson had done something that had rubbed Barnes the wrong way. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't quite recall what the slave had done in particular to upset him. All he did know was that it had annoyed him. So, he devised this little ploy to get back at him, with no possible consequences at his expense. Even if Jackson caught him, who would his family believe? The slave, or their darling son, heir to the Barnes fortune, estate, and other assorted properties. Maybe they would even have enough reason to ship Jackson down the river, or even...

Barnes' face twisted into a sneer.

Slowing down, he glanced back over his shoulder. It seemed he had thoroughly left his pursuer behind. Not one for letting his guard down, though, he scanned the area around him before ducking into another alley. There, he gleefully munched into the fruit of others' labor.

Despite the fact that he was in an alleyway, one of the buildings he stood next to had a window looking into the dim area. Perhaps the building was built before its neighbor. Either way, it was now curtained shut, probably to never be opened again. While not as good as the mirrors back home, it served Barnes well enough to gaze on his reflection.

To those who could only look skin deep, Louis Barnes was a fairly attractive man. He sported wavy blonde hair and a rosy complexion, all perched atop a sharp jawline which he kept clean-shaven to proudly display. But the most poignant feature that adorned him was his eyes. A strong teal-blue, they stared out in a way that was just as sharp as his jaw.

Even with these features, though, Barnes had been unable to find himself a fiancé. It wasn't for lack of trying either. Along with his looks, his family was wealthy enough to attract many a prospecting name to try and get a piece of the pie. He had been to a number of balls and galas, and each one with a new woman. Most had ended the night with a kiss. Some he had even slept with. But all of them he had never seen again after that single night. There just never was the sort of connection he had read about in stories on love and marriage.

Barnes shook his head. Why was he thinking about that now? He glanced down at the half-eaten peach, a look of disgust on his face. It had been too soft. Looking back up, he found himself once again staring at his reflection. A malicious plan seemed to cross both their minds as a smirk crossed their lips in unison. Winding back his arm, Barnes, with all the force he could muster, slammed the peach into the window, pit first. It shattered easily.

Stepping back into the light, Barnes pulled his watch out for the second time that day. Five till two. It had been longer than he had expected, but he shrugged it off nonetheless. Just as he was putting the timepiece away, however, something caught his eye. Something, or someone.

Across the street from him, there was an adjacent alleyway. In that dark space, a man stood, staring at him. Barnes had never seen him before. He was tall, pale, and sported a lightly trimmed dark beard. But much like his own, the man's eyes were the most striking of his features. Unlike Barnes', though, this man's eyes were deep and black, like a pool, drawing in all who stared too long into that abyss.

Louis' heart began to pound. Something was wrong. There was something different about that man, different from any he had ever seen. Louis clutched at his chest. It had grown tighter while his breathing had intensified. He could feel his pores opening up all over his body, but not because of the heat. He realized with a start that he had focused too much on himself. He glanced back at the man, but he hadn't moved. Suddenly, he took a step forward.

"Hold on a minute!"

A voice from behind Louis shocked him out of his trance. Spinning in response, the color drained from his face when he realized who it belonged to. It was a large burly man, built from hours of skilled labor working on wagons and other large woodworks. From his upheld fist, peach was slowly being squeezed out from between his fingers.

"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" Bill shouted, slamming the fruit to the ground.

Only a stutter could leave Louis' lips. He hadn't expected the house he had vandalized to belong to the chief craftsman of the area. There was nothing he could do. He tried to stammer out about his family, and how Bill would be in trouble if he laid a finger on him. Bill was past words, though. With his fist raised again, the artisan bore down on the boy, ready to strike.

Silence.

For a second, Louis thought that he had died right then and there. It had felt like his soul was ripped clean from his body. But as his senses began to calm down, he realized he could still hear the sounds of the marketplace, at least from a way off. Tentatively at first, the young man began to open his eyes. It was at that moment he realized where he was. The first alleyway. Where this entire mess of an afternoon had started. Shocked, Louis wrestled the pocket watch back out and inspected the time: two on the dot.

How on Earth...

"Young man, you appear to belong to a wealthy estate. Is this true?"

Louis spun around. He choked on his breath. Standing before him – close enough to touch – was the dark-eyed man. He could feel his heart beginning to race. The way the man looked down at him reminded him of his story books. Like an inattentive king: regal in form, but uncaring in presence. Louis shivered at the thought. Remembering that he had been asked a question, he answered back with a curt nod.

Without any hint of emotion, the man replied, "Then I request quartering for the night. Your smallest guest room should do."

Everything he was saying was wrong. If Louis had been in his right state of mind, he would have already called out the man for his insolence. It should have been a disrespect to so casually ask a favor of someone of his class. And yet...

"That should be fine," Louis said, his voice trembling, "I shall see to it myself, in fact."

"Splendid," the man said, bowing his head, "I will arrive at dusk, then." Finally, a smile touched his lips. But the smile never reached his eyes. In fact, it looked like it hadn't known true warmth for years. "I cannot wait to see how you have prepared."

The silence had returned.

This time, though, Louis was alone. He glanced up and down the alley, looking for any sign of where the man had gone. All the while his heart continued to pound. Gripping at his chest, Louis tried his hardest to will his body back into his control, but it was no use. His body was wracked with emotion. Whatever it was he was feeling now had affected him so profoundly that he couldn't help but shudder.

Why him?

It was all he could think. It must have been some kind of trick. There was no way this could be happening to him. But every time he thought back to the man, his heart would beat just a little faster. Whatever the man had done to him – if he was even a man – had left him in that state. Like some kind of deal with the devil. Louis twitched at the thought.

All he could do now, though, was follow through on his promise. He'd heard tales all his life of men meeting bad fates at crossroads for not having followed through with their promises. He was sure the same would come to him if he didn't do what the dark figure had said. With his mind finally made up, the young man began to sprint home, his heart pounding the entire way.

Those dark, pooling eyes never left his mind until dusk.