An Unexpected Guest
Snow scoffed, his lips curving faintly, though there was no humour in it. “And yet you’re taking me there.”
The driver gave a low chuckle, fixing his hat again. “Aye, well. Money’s money. But still, if you were my son, I’d tell you to turn back.”
Then his eyes narrowed, a touch of curiosity in his voice. “What business does a boy like you have with men like them, anyway?”
Snow’s gaze flicked to the mirror at last, his dark eyes steady. “Not your concern.”
The car suddenly went quiet, almost like it was certain that that was a closed conversation. The driver grunted, shifted his focus back to the road, and said nothing more.
The city thinned out, replaced by stretches of trees and vegetation, wrought-iron fences and sprawling grounds hidden behind hedges. The cab slowed, pulling up to a set of looming gates where stone lions sat on either side, jaws open and bared in a permanent snarl. It looked eerie for some reason.
The driver eased to a stop, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “This is it.” He glanced back one more time, studying Snow as if he were trying to get a reaction from him. “You really have to be careful though, lad. There are dangerous people behind those walls. Everything isn’t how it seems to be, it’s a dangerous world. If you walk in there… walk like you know what you’re doing.”
Snow slid a few notes across the seat, opening the door without bothering to say anything else to the driver. The driver only smiled weakly in return, he knew that he couldn’t change Snow’s mind on the matter.
“Cheers,” the driver muttered, pocketing the cash. Then he hesitated before adding, softer now, “Don’t let them swallow you whole.”
The cab pulled away, leaving Snow standing alone before the gates. He watched the cab disappear in a bend and turned around to face the scene in front of him.
He stood before the huge iron gates, the stone lions looming above with mouths ajar. For a moment, he slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers brushing over the edge of Sulien’s card, and pulled out the card. His eyes flicked briefly over the address embossed on it. With a quiet breath, he turned his eyes forward. He scanned his surroundings, the sprawling walls stretching into shadow, before tucking the card back into his pocket.
A small structure caught his attention just inside the gates. There was a booth, like a sentry’s/watchman’s post just a few feet from the iron gates, its glass windows catching the weak morning light. Two men sat inside, one laughing with his colleagues stationed outside the booth, the other leaning lazily against the counter. But what caught Snow’s attention more were not the men who were in the booth. It was the figures standing outside the booth, riffles strapped to their shoulders. Even if they were chatting among themselves, it was quite clear that they never dropped their guards.
Snow stepped closer, his shoes crunching against the gravel, and called out. “Excuse me.”
The laughter died immediately. All heads turned toward him, eyes narrowing in his direction. The man inside the booth leaned against the booth window, squinting at the pale boy standing before the iron bars. His expression shifted from his previous amusement to irritation.
“If you’ve got no business here,” he called out, voice thick with disdain, “you’d best get lost.”
Snow smiled faintly, feigning innocence. “I want to see Mr. Vexley.” He said unbothered.
The guards stilled. None of them moved for a moment, as though the boy had just asked for the moon.
One man snorted softly under his breath, another exchanged a quick glance with his companion, and one of the armed men actually laughed, shaking his head.
The booth attendant leaned forward, resting both hands on the sill. He gave Snow a long, incredulous look. “You want to see Mr. Vexley?”
“Yes,” Snow said simply.
The man barked a humourless chuckle. “Your name, then.”
“Snow.”
The booth attendant turned toward the computer on his desk, fingers clicking across the keyboard, the faint tapping of keys echoing in the silence. Snow waited patiently for the attendant to finish.
Finally, the man shook his head and looked back out the window. “There’s no records and I didn’t receive any reservation orders from the higher-ups. Your name isn’t even on the list.”
“Ah,” Snow tilted his head slightly, scratching the top of his head. “Maybe that’s because it was kind of impromptu.”
There was another pause. Murmur moved through the men outside. This time their incredulity was sharper and mixed with a tinge of suspicion. One guard muttered something under his breath before the man in the booth leaned forward again.
“Do you even know where you are, boy?” He pressed, his tone like a warning.
“Yes,” Snow’s answer came simple. “I know.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. He leaned out a little further, pointing with his chin. “Then you’d best walk away now. The boss doesn’t accept people like you. You don’t just drop by to see him.”
With that, he leaned back into the booth, the others already shifting as if to dismiss him. The guards turned their attention away, one adjusted the strap of his weapon as if silently warning Snow not to attempt any funny business. Another spitting on the ground like Snow had already ceased to exist.
Snow’s jaw tightened. His patience thinned as he watched the men ignore him. Their arrogance scraped against something in him, irritation coiling low in his chest. Slowly, he slipped a hand into his pocket again, and drew out the card, holding it up between two fingers.
“People like me, huh?” Snow said evenly. He lifted the card and continued, “And yet, your boss is the one who personally gave me his card, saying I can visit him whenever I want.”
That single sentence cut through the dismissal like a blade. Their eyes snapped to the card in Snow’s hand. The booth attendant leaned forward, blinking once, twice, then exchanged a quick glance with the men beside him.
All of a sudden, their demeanour rotated a few 180. They straightened up their spines and cleared their throats upon recognition of their boss’s personal card.
The Author has Something to Say
Guards: You can’t just drop by to see our boss.
XL (Flashes Sulien’s card like it’s a Uno reverse.)
Guards: Welcome, sir. The boss is right this way.