Categories > Original > Drama > Balthazar's Story
Balthazar is probably my favourite OC of all time. he has a Facebook, so you should add him! He's based on a character from Might and Magic VIII: The Day of the Destroyer and will alter feature in These Four Walls (which, for the record, I haven't abandoned. I'm just not sure where I'm going with the next few chapters... I ideally could do witha 2 year time lapse... but that's a little too much)
Anyways...
It's weird posting something that isn't poetry... Oh well
Here it is! Enjoy!
Balthazar’s eyes grew wide with fear as his brother, Thor, pushed him around the corner, snarling at him. The younger Minotaur screwed his eyes shut to block out the image of his infuriated sibling, whose voice dropped to a whisper as he began to speak.
“I’m getting father to put an end to your pathetic life, satanic child,” Thor hissed.
“W-what? What do you mean?” A panic-stricken Balthazar forced out, opening his dark eyes.
“You’re a useless faggot. You, as the Lord’s son, should know by now that even the slightest queer thought is punishable by death,”
“I’m no-” Balthazar squeaked out, tears in his dark brown eyes. A strong hand placed a firm grip around the younger boy’s throat, causing him to choke.
“You don’t need to lie, you worthless piece of shit. And if dear old daddy won’t do it, then I’ll get rid of you myself,” Thor spat, digging his fingers into his brother’s neck, “Going to chop of your head my own axe,” he continued, letting out a deep chuckle. Thor detested Balthazar, and now he had a reason to exterminate the sobbing sixteen year old who was gasping in front of him. Thor released his grip and stepped away as Balthazar staggered forwards, forcing oxygen into his lungs. With another low laugh, Thor turned and left, heading straight down the vacant hallway. The red carpet that the other Minotaur marched along seemed never-ending. Balthazar wanted to laugh at his brother’s feeble attempts to make some sort of sound with his hooves. Never the sharpest axe in the rack, was Thor. He never worked out that those carpets were installed to prevent the sound of angry Minotaur hooves. Nevertheless, it made Balthazar shudder.
How could he, Balthazar thought, the man’s on his fucking deathbed and you tell him his youngest son ‘prefers the company of men’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. You’re a dick. A real dick.
Wanting to escape his thoughts, Balthazar, still shaken, heading down the opposite way, along yet more of the thick red carpet, to the blacksmith’s quarters. He really needed to thee if that new axe was ready yet. He needed a practise duel to take his mind off of things.
Anyways...
It's weird posting something that isn't poetry... Oh well
Here it is! Enjoy!
Balthazar’s eyes grew wide with fear as his brother, Thor, pushed him around the corner, snarling at him. The younger Minotaur screwed his eyes shut to block out the image of his infuriated sibling, whose voice dropped to a whisper as he began to speak.
“I’m getting father to put an end to your pathetic life, satanic child,” Thor hissed.
“W-what? What do you mean?” A panic-stricken Balthazar forced out, opening his dark eyes.
“You’re a useless faggot. You, as the Lord’s son, should know by now that even the slightest queer thought is punishable by death,”
“I’m no-” Balthazar squeaked out, tears in his dark brown eyes. A strong hand placed a firm grip around the younger boy’s throat, causing him to choke.
“You don’t need to lie, you worthless piece of shit. And if dear old daddy won’t do it, then I’ll get rid of you myself,” Thor spat, digging his fingers into his brother’s neck, “Going to chop of your head my own axe,” he continued, letting out a deep chuckle. Thor detested Balthazar, and now he had a reason to exterminate the sobbing sixteen year old who was gasping in front of him. Thor released his grip and stepped away as Balthazar staggered forwards, forcing oxygen into his lungs. With another low laugh, Thor turned and left, heading straight down the vacant hallway. The red carpet that the other Minotaur marched along seemed never-ending. Balthazar wanted to laugh at his brother’s feeble attempts to make some sort of sound with his hooves. Never the sharpest axe in the rack, was Thor. He never worked out that those carpets were installed to prevent the sound of angry Minotaur hooves. Nevertheless, it made Balthazar shudder.
How could he, Balthazar thought, the man’s on his fucking deathbed and you tell him his youngest son ‘prefers the company of men’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. You’re a dick. A real dick.
Wanting to escape his thoughts, Balthazar, still shaken, heading down the opposite way, along yet more of the thick red carpet, to the blacksmith’s quarters. He really needed to thee if that new axe was ready yet. He needed a practise duel to take his mind off of things.
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