CHAPTER ONE.

I'm writing a story, and I humbly invite you to read. I'll be posting it chunk by chunk/ chapter by chapter, as it's easier for me this way. It's highly experimental. About? Why not find out. ;)

" I don't doubt your condolences were made Mr Barkley, I simply wonder weather your words should be taken as honesty. After the last afare, toying with the law... the courts not a game, sir, my job as a lawyer is to be taken extremely seriously. While you spent your days care free, with the confidence of forgetting every soul you've ever so easily wronged, I spent my weeks unwinding every plot twist and dangerous allegation that could quite easily have been used against you. I do hope you take my suggestion into consideration, and leave quietly while you ponder the possible consequences of the actions your desitions lead to. I'm sure I don't need to be the one to tell you, your tampering where you aught not to tamper. A lier must never trust. Don't forget, Mr Barkley, people are capable of knowing far more than they let on. Sara only knew what you wanted her to know. But do ask yourself, what do they want you to know? I hope you realise by doing what your doing you're allowing yourself to surrender to the real puppeteers in this game. They never show there faces. They dance in the darkness and hide in the shadows that are plain sight. They could be anybody sir, any place, at anytime, with any type of unimaginably strong weapon. I simply mean to say... I shouldn't be too careful. We have a lot to lose. We've invested in this life time. Dying is an easy way out. Dying isn't losing. You haven't seen losing, and can't imagine it in your wildest nightmares. And you never shall be capable of imagining such horror unless it befalls you. We, my dearest friend, can not afford to lose."

"I understand, my humble henchman, but it's itching me. It crept underneath my skin the moment I learned this was more than freedom. And yet.. so much less. Too little. A splinter I know you saw me acquire, and yet, not once did you attempt to help me pluck it from my aking body. You let me live with that little pain, while knowing it would grow until it manifested an infection. My life is infected Johnny. And you know as well as I do, I have less than no idea of if an antidote even exists in this madly blind world.
But.. at least we have beauty. Oblivion is truly beautiful, John."

"Are you implying that you strive for destruction, sir? We've discussed the none existence of nothingness enough times. "

"Destruction? Never... Or at least, not yet. The people aren't ready. Surely we should at least make them believe they have the capacity to grasp at the small percentage of a chance to win before we wipe them out of this world completely? People thrive on hope. Tell a person a lie they want to believe and they shall worship you and your leadership forever."

"Yes, but perhaps not your judgment. Perception is one thing, but lies are another completely. Tell an ugly person they're beautiful and they may value your kindness so much they fall In love. But people aren't stupid. Be careful what you lie about. You've mastered the voice, the body language and the back stories. All your lies are backed up and your back ups are backed up... Sir, you've lied so much your lies are becoming too good. People are so very flawed, self conscious and self critical, positive lies can lead to doubtful minds. Lower your false praise. Just low enough for it to be believable, I beg you, your reaching to high, to fast."

Barkley twitches slightly, his breathings sharp, he bangs the dark, wooden table slightly with irritation- his stubbornness kicks in.

"It doesn't matter John! I'm wasting time making these people believe. I'm doing them a favour by letting them play the game. I don't care if they survive. They better pray they believe my lies, as soon as they don't, they're out. Out of the game. They- LOSE, Johnny. And we will watch them fall down. Holding hands and singing ring a ring a roses as they do. Because it's a disease. And if I have to live with this metaphorical gas mask my whole life to protect myself, I will."

"Metaphorical or not, it won't work. It's not the oxygen that's infected, sir. The mess is in the mentality. A mask can't protect you from the devil once he's inside you."

Author's Note

Please ignore my probable maany spelling and grammar mistakes, and focus rather on the content. Since this is simple a very short beginning, it may not make a lot of sence at the moment, please rest assure there is more coming! I do hope you take the time to give my stories chapter one a read, enjoy and drop a quick review if possible. :)