by J. A. Areces
***
“Excuse me, sir; it appears that Jesse Alexander is trying to reach you, sir. Would you prefer that I take a message or will you answer the phone, sir?” Beifar’s cell phone chimed.
The wizard Beifar slowly regained consciousness as his cell phone repeated the same message. Beifar felt as if a ton of bricks landed on his head. He sat in a large, dark conference room in a handsome, comfortable chair. He tried to move, but he couldn’t. He felt as if tied up with strong ropes but none were visible. He was under a hex. He searched for his staff, but it was nowhere in sight. His hat sat on a large conference table next to a wooden bowl containing a glowing red rock that emanated smoke. High ceilings, dark wood paneling, and pulled blinds made the room appear ominous. How long was I out? He wondered.
The doors to the conference room were thrown open. A tall, bald man, with a dark moustache and goatee, dressed in a very expensive dark suit, white shirt and red tie hurried in carrying the wizard’s staff. He gave a fake smile as he quickly approached the wizard. Beifar recognized him at once and frowned. Thinking fast, the wizard waved his hand slightly and his staff immediately responded. It pulled at the man, but he fought it, and held it back.
“Lord Alex,” said Beifar trying not to show any emotion. There was no response. Lord Alex quickly approached and punched the wizard across the face. Beifar regained himself without allowing any pain to show. He sat up straight and stared directly at Lord Alex.
“I assume you enjoyed that?” Beifar asked.
“No, not at all -- the enjoyment will come when I finish with you.”
