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Mas BagusWilliam Aubergine
Light after Light went by, illuminating the rough roads William knew these streets, knew these paths, but the shadows drew long over them. Crafting a background of fingers that grasp at the edges of the windshield.
In this gloom the white paint of his van appeared more dingy, more gray with stormy undertones rippling in between each beam that rolls over it.
Such weather would be fitting for this night. Ever roiling thunder interspersed with blinding lightning, heavy raindrops to provide a staccato to sorrow and dogged determination.
But such things do not come. Only tires on asphalt serve as the ambiance for this forsaken ride.
The only thing that could be claimed as a positive for it was the time, short as it was. In the old days the drive was a bonus, and a reason why he had transferred to the Wonderland. The pay may not have been as good, but the gas saved was more than enough.
Still, one would want such a momentous moment to… last longer. Instead of seeing the destination to ones journey within ten minutes.
Parking was strange, his spot was still there. Not unexpected given the nearly empty nature of the lot, but something just felt like it was… diffrent. Different enough to assume his spot wouldn't be marked, or empty, or nearly perfect.
But nearly empty and actually empty were two different things, and he could not help but wonder who exactly was here. Perhaps those who contacted him? Perhaps someone else who had been?
It matters little. He climbs into the back of his van, one that once held tools and parts for mechanical life, and gathers his weapons. Perhaps nothing will be hostile in this place, perhaps nothing will be found but dank halls and old stains, perhaps…
He checks the chambers of his revolver, gives the axe a quick grind, and hesitates at the knuckles. They were clean. Meticulously so. A gift, one given by his father-in-law. ‘So that you can bust in the teeth of those fools who flirt with a married woman.’
Brutal that man, so unlike his daughter. But brutality has a place, he slides them into a pocket.
The husk known as William Aubergine steps out into moon light and approaches an opened gate, axe held almost lazily over a shoulder.
