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A Short Story : A Story?

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He trudged deliberately slow, his steps hesitant and afraid. The girl behind him was silent. She ought to be, he thought bitterly. She was the one who caused this in the first place. He tried to form any other thoughts but the one idea that circled his head was of his utter demise. He squared his shoulders, awkwardly pushing out his lanky chest. The sound of wooden wheels clattering against the ground made him turn in anger. He brought his foot harshly and kicked her. She screamed, tumbling to the dirt. He smirked, some of his annoyance sent elsewhere. He continued to walk, listening to her small grunts of pain as she, he assumed, was trying to get back on her plank. When they made it to the oversized mansion, he snapped his fingers at her. She blinked, looking down immediately. "Do not enter unless I order you to do so." He opened the door and entered the house, almost bumping into servants scurrying with dishes and plates in their hands. He cursed, wiping the inevitable sweat from his forehead. The plan he had forged in his head was briskly disintegrating. He passed the long hall and stopped at the largest room. He swallowed and brought his hand to the door. Knocked twice. "Come in." A deep voice answered. He sauntered inside. It was not a grand room for a wealthy nobleman but for some strange reason, the man favored it. "What have you brought for me, Alexander?" Alexander nodded to himself. He exhaled. The man in front of him was beautiful and vicious. Tall and
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