art of world

ONCE UPON A DREAM…

A Maleficent lived to bend the world to his will.

Alexander pulled his long black blazer close to his chest. It was so fitted, it

embedded into his body like a second skin. Rolling up his purple cuffs, he

glanced at the ambulances lined up outside. A second later, paramedics wheeled

patients in. Good thing he could blend in easily. Walking through the glass

doors, the immediate rush of the icy air conditioner hit him. Two of his men

walked in front of him, and one walked behind him.

He took in his surroundings. It was one of the oldest hospitals he had come

across, and he didn’t make a habit of going to them. Today was a special

occasion. The floor was slate and gray. Shiny and bright, as if recently painted.

The artificial light was too radiant, and it hurt his eyes. He gazed at the magnolia

walls. They went from old colorless to colored photographs, showing the

progression of time. Creepy chills ran down his spine as he stared at the endless,

curved hallway. Hospitals were so damn depressing. They were so morbid and

awful, and he already wanted to rush out of here.

He was a man on a mission, waiting impatiently to the side with his brother

Dimitri as his men received two visitors passes. His men flashed their

identifications to the reception as their guns stayed hidden in their black and

white clothing. Only two visitors at a time could enter the patient’s room, but

Alexander didn’t care. He had things to do, and he had to do them fast.

Entering the elevator, they went up to the third floor, where another

receptionist greeted them, checking for their passes to allow entry. Fewer people

roamed around, and the tension in Alexander’s shoulders faded.

He nodded at Dimitri and commanded, “Do your thing.”

His brother only stared stonily as he walked up to the young, black-haired

receptionist in scrubs and planted himself firmly in front of her gray desk. Her

eyes widened when she took in his brother’s appearance.

Black hair. Chiseled cheekbones. Fair skin.

Good Russian genes.

“Oh… hello,” she spoke in a breathy voice.

Alexander caught the name Nancy on her badge.“I’m Dima,” his brother’s deep, low voice spoke, rolling the vowels with the

nickname. One of his men beside him, Adrik nodded at her as he handed the

passes to her.

She took it from him, but her eyes stayed glued to Dimitri.

“I’m Nancy,” she replied with a hint of a smile.

She glanced down at their passes before handing them back to Adrik. “I’ve

never seen you here before,” she said to Dimitri.

“First time here,” Dimitri replied. He casually leaned his forearms against

her table and asked, “It’s two in the afternoon. Shouldn’t you be on a lunch

break?”

She gave a nervous smile.

“I hardly get time to breathe around here,” she admitted. “I usually only get

to eat once I leave work.”

“That’s an eight-hour shift?”

“It’s rush hour, and I can’t leave my seat.”

Dimitri rested his elbows on the table, leaning in closer. The girl looked like

she stopped breathing.

“What do you like to eat?”

“Um… I grab something from the gyro vendors outside.”

“Alright. I’ll bring it in an hour.”

Alexander’s eyebrows went up as he eavesdropped on the conversation.

The girl’s brown eyes turned startled, and she protested, “Oh…” Her pink

cheeks warmed, turning bright scarlet. “That’s really sweet… but you don’t have

to.” She shrugged awkwardly.

“I’ll bring it.”

Dimitri stated it like a statement and not a question.

It will crush the poor tiny thing when her lunch doesn’t come.

Alexander didn’t care about her at all. She could starve. Taking advantage

of the distraction, he and one of his men slipped past them. On impulse,

Dimitri’s broad shoulders blocked them from her view. With her tiny frame

seated, Dimitri was a giant compared to her. Nancy was too infatuated by him to

pay any heed to them. They didn’t have extra passes. All they had to do was

sneak in and out. Once they were safely away from the receptionist, Dimitri and

Adrik joined them a few moments later.

Alexander stared straight ahead, and his dark eyes lit up when they came

across room 310A. The men ahead of him peeked inside and they muttered,

“Coast clear.”