"Wonderful blonde hair, enchanting yellow eyes, tan skin, a nice body, amazing clothes…I'm the Evil King Stanley! I finally regained my human form and am an Evil Ruler again! What more do I need?" A man was saying to his reflection in a full-length crystal mirror that seemed to relax against the dark wall of his room. He scratched his chin meticulously, unsure of himself for a second. "Hmm…why does there appear to be something missing? Ugh!" Angry from his own confused thoughts, King Stanley, or Stan, raised his arms up in defeat. He almost punched the mirror, but it would have brought him more bad luck, or so the legends said. As if he needed to be in a worse mood by worrying about his luck. Even more furious, Stan was instead content on punching the wall next to the mirror with his bare hand. He only did it once, but even so, his horned, demon butler, James, rushed into the dark room worriedly. He threw open the door and cast in light, hurting Stan's yellow eyes briefly, although he said nothing about it. The King did not even toss in a grunt in protest.
"Mighty King Stan!" The butler exclaimed, concerned. "What is wrong?"
"It's nothing, James," Stan growled, almost snapping back at his faithful servant.
"Well, my lord, if you need to tell me anything, I am right here," the butler told his master. "You know I am always here, and always have been."
"Yes, I do know that. Right now, I request silence, please."
James stayed in the room, quiet. Just as his lord commanded.
"Alone." Stan continued as though he were stupid, his mood way beyond irate.
"Oh! Right, Sir!" James, always a little slow, finally left the entrance of the room, neglecting to close the door in his haste.
Sighing, Stan straightened himself up and closed the door to the room.
Maybe he needed some form of anger management relief. But he knew exactly what kind of thing would bring him relief, and that was what made him want to punch the wall in anger earlier. He wanted some sort of pet, but he wouldn't admit it to himself very easily.
No, not a dog. Nothing like that. A slave. One that remained by his side and could deal with his anger issues and help him relax easily and comfortably. Not someone like James. James was the sort of person who just helped serve him with tasks and things. Plus, he wasn't very human-looking, so he didn't match Stan's tastes. No, Stan needed some sort of…friend?
The King played with the word in his head. Friend. It sounded so kindergarten-y. No, that wouldn't do.
Slave was too harsh. Why not just call it what it was, then? A pet. A personal pet. Yeah, that sounded nice. Pet sounded more kingly somehow.
Smiling for once, Stan was finally rid of his horrid mood. "James!" Before he finished saying his name, James burst into the room, as though he were five feet away the entire time the King was thinking. But now that Stan wasn't as angry as before, he ignored James's too-sudden entrance. At least he hadn't been talking to himself again.
"Yes, Master?" James asked, bowing.
"Bring me Ari."
"I'm sorry, but the King wants to see Ari right away."
"Why ever would he want to see him? He's already helped bring him into power – but he needs a nice, long rest now. Especially because of his accident."
"Excuse me? Accident?"
"Yes, Ari doesn't seem to remember anything. He doesn't even know who we, his parents, are anymore."
"I see. I shall inform King Stan." And James turned, disappearing into a big, black passageway to tell his king bad news that would surely anger him.
A/N: I'm only just starting this story to see how it turns out…I might edit this chapter but I don't know…If I get enough reviews I might continue it and we can all see how this plays out, including me.