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[The Distinguished Mr. Rose] Chapter 1: Red Blooms the Rose
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 09:34:53 +0000 UTC“And I will keep on doing what I am doing in order to cut the ground from under those who want an opportunity to be considered equal with us in the things they boast about. For such people are false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising as adherents of Christ. And no wonder, for the devil himself masquerades as an angel of light!”
2 Corinthians 11:12-14
———
Lucius was a man of many peculiarities.
Every day, he woke up at six-o-clock AM. Not a minute earlier. Not a second later. Exactly six-o-clock AM, for it was then that his home in the humble suburbs of Wisconsin was at its most elegant.
Why was it so? No special reason. In life, people simply did because they could. Routines, patterns, superstitions and beliefs—everyone had a certain something that made them tick. Something that gave meaning to their everyday existence.
In that regard, Lucius was a man of honesty. When a whim lured him, he followed. When he desired something, he took it. There was nothing more important to the good Lucius than his own happiness, and so towards whatever gave him joy, he indulged in it without a care.
Such was his way of life, and it would continue to be so as the sun rose on another, seemingly ordinary, morning. He did not need an alarm or the old grandfather clock by his bedside to rouse him - the dawn’s light was more than enough: soft, supple, like being bathed in rays of gold. If the dawn actually came by then, that is. Sometimes it was rather lazy.
Lucius’s routine was ever the same. There he laid in a tidy bed - breaths silent and body still like the dead - when his eyes fluttered open, and thus to the world he said:
“Good morning. My, what a pleasant day!”
Lucius rose up and stretched his body, meticulously smoothing out all those pesky muscles, and then strode towards his wardrobe. A man’s first impression was most important, after all. There was no excuse for looking slovenly.
Fortunately, he had no shortage of charming little garments, suits, and jackets—oh my! Such great variety to choose from, but eventually he settled on a violet suit and black slacks.
“Hohoh, ever the charmer!” He admired himself in a nearby mirror. His hair was starting to grey, once luscious black locks now faded into pale frosted tips, but Lucius didn’t mind it. To age was a beautiful thing, and there was a certain romance in being an old soul. Like a fine-aged barrel of whisky, he only grew more dashing with time.
But such dandy allure was not without effort. Lucius took a deep breath, and he began to practice his expressions.
He smiled. “This is the face I will make when I am happy.”
He frowned. “This is the face I will make when I am sad.”
He scrunched his brow. “This is the face I will make when I am upset.”
And to finish it all off, he gave himself a little wink. “Marvelous. I truly am a fine specimen.”
With his routine out of the way, he strolled towards the door… and then stopped.
Ah, his attire was missing one last thing.
Lucius reached under a drawer, and pulled out a most peculiar mask. It was made of porcelain, features emotionless, with streaks of purple and gold and a most pristine white, and where would normally be a socket for one’s right eye was instead covered by a bright red rose.
The mask was his implement. He would need it for the performance to come.
“Can’t forget about this old thing now, can I?”
Lucius carefully put the mask in his pocket and finally left the bedroom. His next agenda consisted of the usual: a little grooming, some fresh fruit and yogurt for a lovely breakfast, and a quick listen to the local radio.
“You’re listening to… 88.1 The Mix!” The radio blared with a catchy jingle. “Good morning to all you beautiful people out there. It’s Elizabeth and Radar, and today’s a very special day. It’s Veteran’s Day! And for the folks with family in the military, a reunion just might be coming soon. Can you tell me more about it, Radar?”
“I sure can, Elizabeth!” a male voice spoke up. “The troops are coming back home, and right in time for the holidays! Thanksgiving’s around the corner, and the first batch of servicemen should have arrived just a few hours ago, with many more to come in the next few days.”
“That’s right! No doubt there’s plenty to be thankful for this fall season, and I hope each and every one of you out there will cherish this precious time together. You never know how long you’ll have left. Anyways, up next is ‘Bad Times Coming’ by Bill Johnson.”
The segment ended just as Lucius finished his cup of tea. He smiled, for everything was right on schedule. “My, I simply cannot contain myself.”
With all his preparations set, Lucius tidied up his person, approached the door, and stepped out into the chilly November day. He had much to do, but first… a little ‘fishing’ or as they say. There was someone he had to meet.
Lucius chose to forego his vintage Aston Martin and instead went on a little stroll. Slowly, of course. He lingered for a bit on the sidewalk and ever so leisurely made his way through the suburbs until…
“Is that you, Lucius?”
Success.
He turned around and found himself face to face with a nervous looking gent. The man was in his late twenties, a lanky sort dressed in military attire, and he anxiously checked the surroundings so as to make sure no one else was watching them.
“Mister Peterson! It’s been a while since we’ve met in person. How have you been?” Lucius asked.
“Well, so-so,” the man replied, still somewhat jittery. “Can’t tell you how many times I got my ass kicked in the army. But you look, um, well. How’s that whatchamacallit… flower shop of yours?”
Lucius’s brow twitched. “Florist boutique, I believe you mean. And it is doing just fine. Lots of guests lately, especially those coming to arrange bouquets for Veteran’s day.”
He could tell that the man wasn’t paying attention. His eyes darted around, distracted by the people walking by.
“Good, good. That’s, uh, great and all, but about our talk before…”
The main event so soon? How very blunt, but if there was one thing Lucius prided in himself, it was his patience.
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “I assume you remember the location? I’ve already left the front door unlocked. Enjoy as you see fit.”
The man breathed a sigh of relief. “Great, thank you. And I hope you don’t think of me as a bad guy or anything. It’s just… things have been rocky with Donna after I was deployed, and—well, you’re a man too, right? You understand. I need to let off some steam. Hell, she probably did the same thing. I’ve heard the stories: A guy gets sent off, and the moment he leaves, the bitch starts spreading her legs—”
“That’s enough of that.” Lucius raised his hand and firmly put a stop to the vulgarities. “You do not need to make excuses. How can I fault a proud soldier of our nation for wanting a bit of fun? But I suggest you hurry. Missus Peterson tends to wake at this hour, and I believe you would rather not have her know you are here.”
“Right. Gotcha, I’ll get going. Thanks again! If you ever need a favor, give me a call.”
“I will consider it.”
Without a second to spare, the man ran off, leaving Lucius to continue his jaunt through the neighborhood.
After an hour or so, he arrived at his destination: a quaint little shop situated right next to the old Brookfield Mall. The words “The Floral Bloom” were writ in stylish cursive on the signage, and darling little flowers flaunted themselves by the window.
This was his pride and joy. The shop had been in business for the odd decade; all the blossoms within were meticulously raised, and he cherished each and every one of them as if they were his own children.
Lucius would do anything if it meant bringing out their beauty. He felt the same way towards people—everyone had something special buried in their hearts. Sometimes all it took was a little pruning to draw it out.
As he entered the boutique, Lucius noticed a rough scuff mark on the floor. My, that man really did not waste time, did he? That was just fine. The final cast member had yet to arrive, and once they did, this sordid play would finally come to a most riveting conclusion. He grinned at the thought.
DING.
The clock struck eight-o-clock, and the Floral Boom was finally open for business.
His first customer was a familiar one: a shy woman with a meek exterior and an even meeker voice.
“Good morning, Mister Rose,’ the woman said.
“Good morning, Missus Peterson. What can I do for you?” he replied, greeting her with a bow.
The woman’s expression brightened, and her voice quickly became giddy with excitement. “Did you hear? John’s coming back! Oh, it’s been such a long year since without him. We used to talk over the phone, but… well, I don’t want to be too personal, but we had a fight and I’ve just felt so bad ever since. It’s hard raising kids alone, you know? I was frustrated and tired and—we had a rough last call, so I wanted to get him some flowers. It’ll be a fresh start for the both of us! I just hope he’ll like it.”
Lucius found it curious, the fickleness of human emotion. These two were once madly in love. He watched them grow up from an awkward high-school couple to raising a ‘happy’ little family of their own. So how did it end up this way? Interesting, so very interesting. Dramas always were admittedly a guilty pleasure of his, but what mattered most was the ending.
“I see. Well, you are just in luck, my dear!” he said. “I’ve received something very special just for this occasion.”
“Ooh, special you say?”
“Indeed, if you would just follow me this way…”
Lucius led her to the very back of the boutique, but not before discreetly flipping the ‘OPEN’ sign to read ‘CLOSED’. Wouldn’t want anyone to intrude on them, after all. And soon, he unlocked a door that revealed a staircase leading down into the basement.
“Oh wow, I never knew you had such a thing here!” She said. “How come you’ve never told me?”
He chuckled. “I only reserve this area for the most important of occasions.”
The good ma’am dramatically covered her heart and bid him a playful pout. “Am I not important to you, Mister Rose? I’ve been coming here ever since my first prom night with John. Heck, the flowers you gave him might be why I even fell for the man in the first place.”
“And I am ever thankful for your continued patronage. Why, it’s the very reason I’ve decided to show you my utmost secret supply. It’s been far too long since someone last had this pleasure.”
He waited for a very, very long time. The prettiest buds were the ones given the longest care; now, it was time to claim his harvest.
Lucius invited her forward with a wave. “Ladies first.”
“Ever the gentleman,” she laughed, and then descended into the darkness.
The two made their way down, each step creaking on the old wood, when a sudden noise caused her to stop.
“Huh?” she said, voice low and confused. “What is that? It… it sounds like John.”
“Keep going,” Lucius ordered.
“But—”
“Keep going.”
The woman looked up at him, wary, but he encouraged her with a disarming smile. “If you stop now, the truth shall be forever concealed. Or rather, ignored I suppose in your case. But there will always be that nagging uncertainty. You will doubt yourself, nights spent wondering if what you’d heard was ever real, and you will regret never taking the risk to affirm it with your own eyes. So, keep going Donna Peterson. Everything will be over soon.”
She began to speak, but instead swallowed a dry gulp and nodded her head.
“As I thought.”
The two continued their trek until they reached the bottom of the basement. A large, white room unfolded before them; all that was inside was a door and a two-way window.
A window that showed Mister Peterson pleasing another woman.
Missus Peterson fell onto her knees and muffled a sob. The sight broke her heart, and yet she couldn’t look away. Her eyes were affixed to her husband’s betrayal.
“W-Why?” she whispered, and turned her head towards Lucius. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
He did not console her, nor did he explain himself. Instead, Lucius dropped down onto one knee and donned his floral mask. The air grew rigid, it steeped with a deranged rise of madness as he inched closer—slow, deliberate, menacing.
Now, Lucius could finally feel like himself.
“You have two choices,” he said, voice deep and raspy.
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a camera. “One, you can gain evidence of his infidelity. Divorce him, blackmail him, or simply pretend that none of this happened. Whatever it is you decide, it will not change what he has done. You will live on with this knowledge for the rest of your life. Or…”
With his other hand, he took out a knife.
“I trust I need not explain what this option entails?”
The lady stared at the two objects as if attempting to burn a hole through them. But eventually, she made a decision.
And picked up the knife.
“I see, so that is your choice,” Lucius chuckled. “The floor is yours.”
Miss Peterson staggered herself upright, face cast in a sickly shadow, and slowly stalked toward the door.
“D-Donna? What’re you doing here—”
From then on, there were only screams. Stabbing. Crying.
And then everything went silent.
As Lucius went to check up on the two love-birds, he was greeted by a brutal sight. The man and his mistress both were mutilated beyond any recognition, and their slayer laid in a corner—knife purposely thrusted into her own heart.
This truly was a most beautiful tragedy.
“I must admit, I had expected you to take the other choice,” Lucius said, wrenching the knife from her corpse. “But you… you were a more passionate woman than I thought. How fascinating! There is no greater beauty than that of a soul reduced to its truest self. Fret not, my dear: I shall immortalize your will to the best of my capabilities.”
Lucius hummed a jolly tune to himself as he picked up a bucket and collected all of the blood pooled onto the floor. He cared not for the corpses nor smell, but cleaning this mess would certainly take some time. It appeared the boutique would have to be closed for the rest of the day, not that he minded. With this much blood he could water the flowers for months.
“Hm, I wonder what flora would best suit her?” he wondered to himself. “Perhaps… yes, a yellow rose! The flower of infidelity and betrayal: I can think of nothing better to preserve the lady’s splendor.”
Lucius patted himself on the back for such a genius idea and carried on with his clean-up. After he finished, he made his way back to the front of the shop to pick out some suitable seeds.
But then, something strange happened.
When he tried to grab a packet, he suddenly rose up in the air.
“Hm? What’s this now?”
He looked down, and found his feet hovering above the floor.
“Oh my, it appears that I am floating. How very odd.”
Without a second to react, Lucius was thrust out of the store by an invisible source—flying high into the bright blue sky and hurtling towards an unseeable destination. He was not the only one, for all around him were the frightened bodies of thousands, no, tens of thousands all rising up into the clouds alongside him. All screaming. All wailing out in fear.
The light was blinding. It increased in intensity and threatened to consume his everything in a terrifying maelstrom of radiance when—
It stopped. The force, the light, everything came to a halt.
When Lucius opened his eyes, he was greeted by a peculiar levitating panel.
Lucius Rose
Affiliation: Low-Rank Dimensional Realm ‘Milky Way’ Subsection 103 (Earth)
Level: 1
Ascension Status: Mortal
Species: Human
Age: 42
Class: (Pending)
Skills: (Pending)
>[Orientation Will Begin Momentarily]<
>[Welcome to the Grand Celestial Competition of the Stars]<
