The Trixian: Anxiety

            The disappointed man growled his distaste at the gathered group in front of him. He closed his eyes and sighed while resting his elbows on the table in front of him. The ornate wooden table stood defiantly before the members; already placed on a raised platform it gave it's occupant a rather imposing aura. Trying to relieve some of his stress, his fingers started to slowly massage his temples. After recollecting himself he allowed his eyes to open. Despite the dimmed light of the cold room, there was no hiding the worry on the members' faces. At least they're smart enough to worry, I'll give them that. The thought lighted a small smirk on his face.

“So, we haven't found him yet, time is not on our side gentlemen.” His rough, quiet voice commanded the attention of everyone in the room, even the trigger happy guards standing post at both exits. His striking blue gaze jumped from one nervous onlooker to the next, making each cower in their seats in fear that he could see right into their souls. “I doubt that I need to reiterate just how important it is to have this boy in our control do I?”

Most of the anxious members were frozen in their seat; some were even slightly shaking their head slowly. One foolhardy young man stood up from his seat and chanced to voice his thoughts, something everyone else was too afraid to do. “Master, we've been searching for this boy for years now, every lead turning out to be nothing more than a wild goose chase. How do we even know that the boy exists? Surely we would have found him already if he does.” The young mans arms were hanging down at his side, his hands open in exasperation.

The master hid his anger well, only letting the slightest hint of malice leak into his voice. “Are you finished Mr. Tucker?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

In confusion, Mr. Tucker stood there frozen, panic started to seep through him as the stupidity of his actions finally crossed his mind.

Taking the silence of the man as all the answer he needed, the master nodded slightly. One of his arms had fallen unnoticed into his lap as the man was speaking. A loud bang instantly echoed in the room that was quickly followed by the tormented screams of Mr. Tucker.

In agony Mr. Tucker cradled his left hand close to his chest to try to hinder the bleeding. Only short, bleeding stumps remained where his ring and middle finger once were.

The master brought his hand back up to rest on the table, still holding onto the smoking pistol with a light grasp. Waving his hand in mild care he motioned to one of the guards, “Take him to the medical wing, have them seal it up before he loses too much blood.”

The guard he ordered immediately dispatched from his post to navigate through the rows of chairs. The occupants quickly moved out of his way, not wishing to anger their master further. The guard roughly grabbed Mr. Tucker's shoulders and half drug him out of the room, his tortured moans still echoed in the hallway as they left.

The master looked at the seated members below him once more. An evil glint in his eye pierced each of his victims. “Anyone else doubt me?” He let his hand nonchalantly drop the pistol on the table with a dull thud. Nobody even shook their heads this time as they silently prayed not to get his attention. “Good. By my calculations, the boy will be eighteen in just a couple of months. We must have him before the Child reaches him. Am I absolutely clear?”

The crowd silently nodded almost in unison. Waving them off the master continued, “Excellent, now bring me the boy. You are dismissed.”

The members quickly filed out of the two back doors. They were eager to be free of their master's company as they left him alone to silently brood.