Fantasyland IX

Supreme Leader Steve entered his office locking the door before moving towards a large skeleton, its arm extended, a finger pointing as if to caution him.
He unbuttoned the heavy robe and hung it from the finger along with a short sword before dragging his leaden feet across the floorboards, the scraping and squeaking of loose boards creating a termite symphony before silence as Steve relinquished his burden on the floor to a large leather seat.
He rocked his head back staring at the ceiling.
“What a day,” he said to no one.
“I heard,” some one’s raspy voice replied.
“What…oh…” Steve not so much leapt to his feet as he rolled around on the chair trying to find them.
“Who was he? Well?
“You know how to make an entrance don’t you? No pleasantries either, just who was he? No, how have you been, how’s tricks?
“SHUT UP. Are the plans in motion?
“What does this fool know?
“Nothing a good killing won’t knock out of him.
“Good. We must not fail.
“I know but father….
“Don’t call me father…

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