House of Shadows

Alexander ran his finger along the mantle, and grimaced at the dust. It’d been weeks since he’d been home, and the shadow servants he’d placed had long-since expired. He could reinstate them, but it was besides the point. He’d be gone again soon... A shadow slid across the fireplace at his feet, blotting out the light, save for what filtered between two pinhole eyes.
Nassistra: “Feeling regret, Alexander?”
Alexander Marcus: “No. Just ruminating about the past…”
Nassistra: “The Gray Owl is watching.”
Alexander Marcus: “I know.”
Nassistra: “Kindness, from the great House Marcus?”
Alexander laughed — a real laugh, a sound seldom heard in these halls — and shook his head.
Alexander Marcus: “No, just more cruelty.”
The Director of the Pact Worlds grinned, walking over to a side table to pour a glass of dark, red wine, and raised it straight to the camera.
Alexander Marcus: “To the Dream Team. They rose from the dredges of society, growing to be a thorn in my side on nearly every occasion. Even after I thought them dead, they came back to make more trouble, and steal more of what I had accomplished. May they rest now along with their allies, rotting on the gray dirt of Great Shadar. In their memory, and my honor!”
Alexander downed the wine, and bowed to the camera with a flourish. Nassistra laughed, and smothered the flame. Darkness poured over the room, and with nothing else to see, the dream fades.