Creative Writing: Empire Island

“If only it was as simple as planned,” thought Thomas. Reminiscing on past conversations he recalled the specific words, “Let’s keep this simple, shall we? I don’t the slightest bit of suspicion towards me. When we walk in I will give you the supplies, all you need to do is finish the deal.” After that said, the tall man wearing a trench coat walked away leaving a trail of questions to be answered, but none were asked.

“Where is he?” the princess shouts. Being born into a family that caters the king and queen, Thomas then replies. “Princess Isabella, I was only checking to see if the restaurant was prepared for your appearance. We will leave shortly.” Thomas opens the door to the elegant vehicle, a classic, engineered by some of the best

Thomas looks around and sees golden lights shimmering above, as well as angel-like creatures with bright eyes and smiles greeting him and the princess. Simultaneously, the walls of the room tower over his head while he then thinks back to his earlier conversation. As he moves his body forward, he sees a man, a man he has seen before. He recalls to his earlier encounter with this man, and soon reality hits of who this man is--just the thought gave Thomas the feeling of vulnerability. Soon after, his legs start to lose all their strength; his hands start to quiver but nothing can stop them and sweat starts to pour down his neck. Thomas gathers what little confidence is left inside of him and walks up to the host at the front desk. “The princess requests to be seated at your most luxurious table available.” He places his hands onto the counter to support his balance, then turning his head back to the host he says, “She requests him as her waiter,” while pointing to the bald man with a scar that stretches across his entire left

“My apologies,” spoke Thomas, “I was telling the waiter to bring out something specially made just for you.” He then flashes an almost forced smile, but the princess of course thinks nothing of it. After the waiter disappearing for a few moments, he returns with the most beautiful glass of champagne. He sets the drink on top of a bucket with ice which was lying on top of the table. Next, he brings out two wine glasses and then gracefully pours the bottle’s contents into a glass. As he finishes, the waiter speaks. “Let us have a toast to Princess Isabella as she graces us with her beauty and presence.” She then blushes, stands up, and then boasts about her life; mostly on how nice it is to be wealthy. After that, she drinks. As the food makes its way, the princess begins to feel