"No, it's fine. Leave it. I like the smell."
Ghoulexander stared blankly at the skull that Thanaros had for a face, but didn't seem brave enough to give voice to his doubt.
"Very well. Where is the deck, Master?"
"The Uno deck? I don't know, don't you have it?"
"You last played with Miss Howler and Mister Stonewing," Ghoulexander reminded him. "I, unfortunately, do not have a deck of my own. I imagine Miss Howler probably took it with her."
"Dammit all,"Thanaros cursed, shaking his bony fist. "Never mind then."
"Very well, Master," Ghoulexander replied as he stood slowly and brushed off the seat of his pants.
"Is there anything else you require?" He eyed the wine stains suggestively.
"No, no—but maybe you could stay. You don't have to be in such a hurry to go, you know."
"Are you lonely, Master?" the ghoul asked, looking down on Thanaros as he remained seated on the floor.
Thanaros sighed—somehow. Without lungs or breath. "Well, it all started when I was summoned, I suppose—"
Ghoulexander detected that this was going to take a while so he sat back down and stared patiently at his master.
"I never had much of a home life. I never knew my father—being called out of the ether by the Countess as an incarnated, soul-imbued embodiment of death.
Dad was never really around."
"Did you even have a father? It sounds like you were just made from scratch by the Countess."
"Well, no, but—I mean, things are getting pretty heated between her and Alaric lately. So that's awkward," he murmured.
"How so?" Ghoulexander asked, cocking his head.
"Well—if they get married, then I suppose that makes Alaric my stepfather. But Mary will probably slaughter them both before that can happen." Thanaros sighed a little at that, lowering his head and drawing in his shoulders slightly.
"How does that make you feel?" his servant asked, folding his hands on the table. "Is that what you want?"
"Well—yes, of course! I need Countess's power, after all."
Ghoulexander nodded, smiling at his master. "Yes, master, of course you do. And what is the first thing you're going to do when you have that power?"
"I'll rule the world!" Thanaros declared, fingers spreading incredulously.
"What the Hell else would I do?"
"Yes, very well. And what is your purpose behind ruling the world?"
"Well—mainly to take a vacation. Everyone keeps dying all the time and it's just exhausting. If I have countess's powers, I can conjure up more aspects of Death to make the reaping easier on me."
"I see," Ghoulexander hummed, stroking his chin. "And what if you merely had asked countess to do this for you?"
"She wouldn't. She'd consider it a waste of her powers," he growled dismissively, pounding the table.
"Do you think her priorities are the same now?" Ghoulexander asked.
"Forgive me for pushing—I'm just trying to understand your ambition and see if there's some sort of compromise that gets you what you truly want."
Thanaros glowered at his minion, sockets glowing harshly. "And what is it that you think I truly want, Ghoulexander?"
"A relationship with your mother. A father figure. And some rest. Perhaps all those things are achievable."
"Yeah, well, fuck you," Thanaros growled dismissively. "You forgot to add Bloody Mary's pussy to that list by the way."
The ghoul blanched and shifted. "Noted, Master."
Thanaros rose to his feet and tightened the cord keeping his bathrobe shut.
"Get the fuck out of here and don't come back until you find a deck of Uno cards. Fucking minion, trying to psychoanalyze me."
"Of course, Master, my apologies for overstepping." Ghoulexander stood and bowed before walking toward the door. As he opened it, Thanaros called out to him one last time.
"Oh, Lex?" he said.
"Yes, Master?"
"Send Miss Howler in with a mop. For the wine."
"Of course, sir."
The door closed behind his minion, and Thanaros was alone in this room once more. He unmuted the TV as he sat down in his chair, but the Wisconsin drawl that came back to him was almost intolerable.
He checked his phone, fishing it out of the pocket of his bathrobe and sighing at the zero bars of service that he got in his hidden base.
Thanaros groaned and uttered a sentence he felt with every bone. "Man, this is fucking boring."
————
"I sincerely thank you for choosing to fill your tank at the Pump N' Go, young lad," Alaric said, nodding his head reverently as the teenager stared at him in rapt fascination.
"May the trails ahead of you be smooth, and your labor find its just reward."
"I literally just put ten bucks in the tank and bought a slurpee, but sure," the young man said, waving as he walked away. "You too, bro."
Alaric smiled in approval, turning to look at Justin. "I appreciate the camaraderie offered by the youth of today. He called me his brother—as though we were members of the same order, despite not knowing one
another's monastic affiliation."
"My guy, I have literally no fucking clue what you just said," Justin muttered.
Alaric chuckled. "I'll adapt to the colloquialisms soon enough, fear ye
not, Justin."
"You're understandable most of the time. Try keeping it succinct when talking to customers, though. Like that interaction you had with the kid, just say, 'Thanks for choosing Pump N' Go, have a good one!' or something like that."
Alaric nodded and stroked the growing beard on his chin. "Brevity is the soul of wisdom, Justin. Your counsel is appreciated. I shall gladly take your lesson to heart."
"Uh. Great. Well, we don't have any customers now, so let's continue your training, if you don't mind?" Justin said, his voice a bit shaky.
Alaric had to assume it had something to do with the conditions under which they'd last met.
He nodded and gestured his acquiescence.
"By all means, Lord Justin. Teach me your ways."
Justin led him to a corner of the store where a closet sat alone. Upon its door was a sign that read 'Employees Only: Supply Closet'. He handed Alaric a key, which Alaric deduced was meant for him to open this
doorway.
He fixed the key in the lock and turned, earning a click.