Noble in Nondescript Disguise
1047 Words
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Damian revealed in the anonymity that cloaked him. A day spent away from the opulence of the Pack house had transformed him into a mere mortal, a commoner navigating the lively streets.
With a makeshift residence secured in a cozy corner of town, Damian's neighbor, a boisterous character named Ned, insisted on introducing him to the hidden gems of the commoner's life. Clad in ordinary attire, Damian chuckled at the irony of his situation—a prince incognito, a regal rebel.
Ned, a man of eccentricity and charm, seized the opportunity to act as Damian's unofficial guide to the world beyond the Pack house walls. "Welcome to the wild side, Damian!" he exclaimed, dragging Damian into the bustling market square.
The duo strolled through the crowded streets, blending seamlessly with the diverse throng. "You see, mate, no one here is boring. You're just another bloke in the crowd," Ned quipped, his enthusiasm contagious.
As they meandered, Damian couldn't resist indulging in the simple pleasures—sampling street food, haggling over trinkets, and engaging in banter with unsuspecting townsfolk. "I must say, this commoner life has its charms," Damian remarked to himself, savoring a particularly spicy street snack.
Ned chuckled, "Aye, sire, you're catching on faster than a cat on a mouse. I guarantee you will not regret relocating to the community. Now, let's visit the local tavern and see if you've got the chops for a game of darts!"
Damian found himself amidst the raucous laughter and camaraderie of the regulars. "No titles here, just good old banter," Ned declared, handing Damian a set of darts.
As Damian aimed for the bullseye, a group of lively locals challenged him to a friendly competition. Amidst cheers and jests, he managed to hold his own, surprising even himself with his newfound skills.
"You've got the spirit, man!" one of the locals exclaimed, oblivious to Damian's true identity.
The night unfolded with uproarious laughter, shared stories, and a sense of camaraderie that transcended societal roles. Damian, immersed in the spontaneity of the commoner's world, momentarily forgot the impending special Omega Contest awaiting him back at the Pack house .
As the clock struck midnight, Ned clapped Damian on the back, as he headed back home.
As they ambled back home, Ned regaled Damian with tales of the quirky neighbors and their peculiar behaviors. Animatedly, he pointed out the local gossip, the town's characters, and the nuances that made each household unique. However, as they approached a particular building with an air of mystery, Ned's tone shifted.
Ned paused, glancing toward the ominous structure. "Mate, steer clear of that place," he warned, his voice hushed. "It's cursed, I tell ya. There's a lass living there, and every man she marries meets an untimely end."
Damian arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Cursed? What nonsense is this, Ned? Surely, you jest."
Ned shook his head solemnly. "No jesting here. It's been a decade now. Every man who enters that household ends up six feet under."
Damian, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity, demanded, "Explain yourself, Ned. I don't believe in curses."
Ned leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "There's a girl in there, they say. A bewitching beauty. And every bloke she weds, well, let's just say they don't last long."
Damian's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious. People don't just drop dead because they're married to someone."
Ned raised an eyebrow, "You may think so, sire, but the folks around here are convinced. Whispers of eerie occurrences and strange happenings have surrounded that house for years."
Intrigued yet skeptical, Damian decided to investigate further. "Take me there, Ned. I want to see this cursed abode for myself."
Ned hesitated but eventually led Damian to the mysterious building. As they approached, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension. The house, though unassuming, carried an air of foreboding.
Ned pointed discreetly, "There it is. But remember, I warned ya."
Undeterred, Damian approached the front door. He knocked, half-expecting the house itself to emit an ominous creak. A woman, seemingly ordinary, answered the door.
"Hello there! Can I help you?" She greeted me with a warm smile.
Damian, trying to conceal his unease, responded, "I heard tales about this place. Mind if I take a look around?"
The woman's smile faded into a bemused expression. "Tales, you say? there's nothing cursed about this place."
As she guided Damian through the house, debunking each supposed curse with mundane explanations, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Perhaps the rumors were just that—baseless stories woven by the townsfolk.
Exiting the house, Damian turned to Ned, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ned, it seems the curse is nothing more than a product of vivid imaginations. No need to fear this place."
Ned scratched his head, "Well, I'll be. Maybe we all got caught up in a bit of local folklore. Still, there's something strange about that girl and her history of husbands."
Damian, now more amused than alarmed, replied, "Perhaps it's simply bad luck. Or maybe, as they say, the third time's the charm."
As they walked away from the mysterious house a girl walked in with a drunk man she called him brother and managed to assist him get into the house.
Damian went straight to them, he seemed to recognize her.
"You." She said,
When her brother was already resting inside, Ned left them to talk.
"I waited for you but you didn't show up?" He said to her with an uneasy feeling that was obvious in his facial expressions.
"I'm sorry! When I came you were no longer there" she said.
"It fine," he sighed
"What about the special Omega Contest for the crown prince special maid Did you apply?" He asked curiously
"I don't think the Pack house will have time for that since there will be an execution in the Pack house tomorrow." She exclaimed
"What do you mean?" His eyes were full of disbelief.
"Stanley the prince's right hand man will be executed tomorrow, his sins are yet to be disclosed." She said,
Damian stood up in shock! "What have I done? I will never forgive himself if Stanley gets executed because of me!"
- Writer
