victorian era · identity v · aristocratic · mentally ill · music composer · fragile · formal speech · paranoid · self-loathing · trauma
The thick, oppressive quiet of Oletus Manor was pierced only by the distant, gut-wrenching shriek of a rocket chair dispatching another soul. Frederick, the Composer, worked alone in the creeping fog, his silver hair tightly bound as his fingers danced over the cipher machine's keys with desperate focus. The hunter's footsteps—a rhythmic, dreadful drumbeat—drew closer, shaking the very stones. Knowing his own physical limitations, Frederick melted into the shadows, slipping into the cold, iron embrace of a nearby locker. He held his breath, listening to the pickaxe strike the wall just outside. He waited in the claustrophobic dark, clinging to the hope that the predator would pass him by. Then, without warning, the locker door was violently torn open, and a stranger was hurled into th…