AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you cannot read French, you will need to use Google Translate to read the dialogue. The dialogue in this chapter is vital to the plot line that will be in the next chapter (SPOILER: When the three characters that we have met: Ocean, Dusk and Sebastian, meet the fourth and final main character, Applepip and finally they all become friends. Also, the spark which causes Middle-Earth to be in a grave and dangerous crisis that not even a history book can help with occurs). Please, open Google Translate now and just copy and paste the dialogue you can't understand. Thank you :)
Chapter 3: Seb or Alive
I stepped languidly out of my eagle-pulled limousine. I slammed the door shut, my bubbling anger erupting beneath my unreadable expression, the only giveaway being my virulent, intense, blaring violet eyes. My feet stamped silently up the diamond inlaid staircase, up to the new, wooden front door. Suddenly, a small, disgusting being leapt through my door, colliding against my broad, majestic, Dwarf-like chest; the brick wall that was my body was bulldozed down by the revolting creature.
"Hehehe! Fluffy stuff!" The creature cackled deviously in a squeaky, ear-piercing voice.
I almost let out a manly grunt from the tangible pain that exploded in my indestructible skull. My head became ice-cold and the slimy robber shot through the door giggling menacingly.
Whilst my body shook from the shock, I tried to stand. My nails scrapped the door as I pulled myself back up to my full height.
"C'est Acajou!" Screamed Maid Witless pointing to the rolls of scrapped up wood on the floor.
I grumbled back in French, still disorientated from the impact.
She screamed in horror yet again when she saw my bald head.
"C'est ce que vous obtenez pour avoir les cheveux incroyable!" she said tugging on her dish-water blonde hair.
I put a hand to my head, rather than feeling my soft, chocolate brown hair, I felt my raw scalp. Only a small tuft of hair was left. I pulled my hand down. A sticky red substance covered it.
"Sacre Bleu!" burst through my lips.
"Nous devons vous emmener à la maître d'hôtel!" She squeaked.
"S'il le faut." I majestically sighed back.
She grabbed my coarse callused hand with her stubby one. Then she roughly tried to drag me along, but I stood like an immoveable boulder.
Butler Monshar focused his staff on my wounded head (but it wasn't that bad). I could not see him through the waterfall of blood that impaled my face, but I didn't make a sound because I am really strong and crying is weak.
The magic tingled and my head glowed blue like a majestic phoenix rising from the ashes.
"Maintenant, nous devons déblayer le sang" Monshar whispered seductively.
"Si vous continuez à flirter avec moi, je vais devoir obtenir père de te virer." I threw back at him. Sebastian Edward Scorpia is not gay.
"Allons-nous changer le sujet de conversation?" He cautiously replied.
As I focused on him with my furious, violent violet eyes, I saw him getting lost. He stopped vigorously scrubbing the blood that was beginning to cake on my face away. Rather, he started to gently pat it, taking care not to scratch my smooth, diamond-like skin.
"Dépêchez-vous vous!" I growled angrily at him, taking care not turn him on in anyway.
He complied quickly. His powerful rubbing of the cloth would have torn to pieces the face of any normal person, but I am as indestructible and dangerous as a hoard of irritated, hungry zombies.
"Made d'amis?" He asked me, being desperate to encase my anger with small talk.
"S'il vous plaît, tout le monde ici est soit un Mordor-nationaliste qui déteste les étrangers ou ne vaut pas mon temps!" I laughed. No country is as powerful and mighty as Góndârè (Gondor). Mordor is pathetic! Defeated by a pair of idiotic, gay hobbits!
He rolled his eyes, so I slapped him so hard he flew across the floor.
"Eh bien, pour célébrer le 1000e anniversaire depuis la chute de Sauron, ils ont invité le magicien Gandalf pour libérer des feux d'artifice au large de la pointe de la Montagne du Destin. Toutes les adolescents seront là aussi. Tu devrais aller et de rencontrer certains des habitants! "
I thought about his proposal for a few moments. "Quand cet événement se déroule?" I inquired.
"Demain soir! Ne savez-vous pas votre histoire, gentil garçon?"
I scowled at him.
"Désolé, vous êtes tellement chaud, je ne peux pas m'empêcher parfois."
I kicked him in the chest, he lay gasping on the floor.
I put one foot firmly on his face. In French, I ordered him manly to get on with his job and grow my hair back.
Shaking like a cold kitten, he stood up and grabbed his staff. Muttering incantations, I saw the crystal at the end glow gold then fade.
Monshar screamed then clutched his face with his hands. It seemed that he was shielding his eyes.
I asked what was wrong in French, but I didn't show the man any sympathy at all doing so.
"Regardez dans le miroir" He whispered, reeling in what appeared to me agonising pain. I laughed at his child-like weakness before I gazed into the mirror that hung on the wall.
My thick hair had indeed grown back, but rather than being a deep-brown colour, it was a blinding silver colour – only one oak-tree brown streak was left. My manly, purple eyes widened in shock and my wide lips parted slightly. My square jaw lowered with my lips and my straight, long nose was my only facial feature to remain the same. Luckily, my eyebrows remained brown so I didn't look like a complete idiot and I didn't have eyelashes because those are too feminine.
"Dites-moi, vous pouvez résoudre ce problème!" I gasped.
"Je suis aveugle, je ne peux plus voir ton beau visage!" He cried.
I locked the door behind me. I was going to make his world even more noir then it was already…
