The Lost heir of somewhere unknown

The following morning began with his usual routine, he woke at four thirty am, went to the bathroom to freshen up, then came back and began his workout routine. At eight am he went back into the bathroom to take a shower. After taking his clothes off he places them on a stool inside the bathroom where the girl usually collects them at some point throughout the day.

One thing he did notice was different this morning instead of his usual white T-shirt and jeans and socks, there was a white sleeveless T-shirt, beige soft loose pants, and socks. These were much more comfortable, he thought running his hand over the pants as he came out of the bathroom.

He glance up and his steps halt as he realize his room door is wide open and it was closed when he went into the bathroom.

For a few minutes, he just stood there staring at the open door. He glances around the room but there is no one there. He glanced back towards the door again and at that moment he noticed a pair of black footwear by the door. Okay, was this an invitation for him to go outside? Maybe but was this a test or a trap? He wondered as he slowly walked towards the door and looked left then right.

There were long passages on both sides of his door but no one was in sight. With a snort, he moved away from the door, walked back towards his bed, and sat down. It was only then that he noticed his breakfast on the table. After taking a deep breath he walks slowly over to the table and sits down.

Three hours after breakfast he was still seated on his bed staring at the open door. A test or a trap was the two questions repeating in his head over and over. "It is time to decipher which this is." He said to himself as he got up, walked to the door, and took the pair of footwear in his hands.

A few minutes later he was walking down the corridor to the right. He passed many closed doors until he came to a grand dark brown wooden staircase. He descends it slowly. The stairs came to an end into a massive living room with lots of furniture that was made of the same wood as the staircase he just descended, also in the living room were dark brown and burgundy sofas and armchairs, a massive television, and a stereo with huge black boxes.

To the right in another room, he saw a massive dining table with multiple chairs so he walked towards it. Indeed, this was a grand dining hall with three massive dark brown wooden cabinets displaying various kinds of drinking glasses, wine glasses, glass jars, glass vases, glass ornaments, and white chalk dishes and bowls, lots and lots of them.

He continued walking until he came to a massive kitchen with a grand curved marble counter in the middle of it. He had come this far and still, he hadn't seen a single person; then why did he feel as if his every move was being watched? The thought caused a small smirk to crease the corner of his mouth.

At one side of the kitchen, he saw a passage and decided to check it out. He had walked a good way down the passage when he came to an ajar door. He pushed it open and saw a big rectangular concrete-looking tub. He entered the room and walked over to the tub but when he was close enough to see inside, his steps halted and a frown knitted his forehead, because inside was a severed hand that seemed to have been cut from a little above the wrist. By the looks of it, the hand seems to have been cut hours ago.

Beside the hand was a bloody chopper knife. For a few seconds, he stands there staring at the hand. Why did he have a feeling that this hand was deliberately left here to send a message to him? Alright, he thought turning away from the severed hand.

Message received, he would do all that was within his power to leave this place with all his limbs.

But a few questions were pressing heavily on his mind. Why wasn't he freaked out by this severed hand? Why wasn't he gagging with his hand over his mouth? Why wasn't he sickened to his stomach by this sight? Was he used to seeing things of this nature? And if so, then what kind of person did that make him? Was he also a person who chops off people's hands? With a heavy sigh, he turns and walks from the room.

Once outside the room, he walked further down the passage where he came to a big oak door, leaning just inside the door was an iron pole. His right hand closes around the pole as his other hand turns the door handle. He couldn't help but snort when the door began opening outwards. He steps outside still holding the pole.

Leaving the door open he walks a few feet outside to a big paved backyard. At the edge of the yard was a big tree with thick branches. There was also red fruit on the tree, what kind? He really didn't know. He sucks the crisp air into his lungs and was in the process of releasing it when he heard two distinct growls coming from behind him.

He turned slowly and saw four beasts looking at him and foaming at the mouth. He took two slow steps backward and the dogs took two slow steps forward. He plants the pole firmly beside him and the dog's growls deepen.

"Hey Razor, your golden goose has ventured outside and is about to become a mid-morning snack for your four beasts," Blade said from the doorway of Razor's study.

"He has finally decided to go outside, has he?" Razor grumbled under his breath as he got up and made his way towards one of the windows. He went to the window and was about to whistle a command to the dogs to back off but what he and Blade saw halted his actions and left them speechless.

Before them wasn't a man cowering away from the blood-thirsty beasts but a man skilfully evading the four beasts with high back flips, front flips, and cartwheels. At one point one of the dogs lounged at him and he bent so far backward that his back almost touched the ground which resulted in the dog jumping over him.

Michael of course helped with the dog missing his body by placing the iron pole which was in his hand, under the dog's belly and hoisting the animal further away from him. He then stood back up just as the other dogs advanced and with some skilled martial arts footwork, dragged the iron pole in a circular motion on the ground causing sparks to gash from it which kept the dogs at a distance.

"Quite entertaining isn't he?" Blade asks. "Tell me you're at least close in finding out who this man is." Razor said in a cold tone. "Well, and please don't cut my throat when I say this but looking at him now, I see Jason Bourne, Jet Li, and that backward movement a moment ago, classic Matrix move but as for who exactly this person is, then no, I still have no idea," Blade said in a nervous tone.

"I've run his face and fingerprint through four different databases and nothing, nada, zilch, zero. This man is the definition of the word ghost." Blade ads. "You know I don't like irritations right?" Razor asks in a deadly tone. "I know," Blade said his voice low.

"Well not knowing who this person is irritates me, do something about it and fast." "Yes sir," Blade said taking his phone from his pocket as he walked away from Razor.

Razor turns his attention back to Michael just in time to see Michael doing a high front flip over two of the dogs, landing firmly on his feet then taking off at full speed towards the tree with the dogs chasing him.

Without decreasing his speed, he ran up the trunk of the tree, spun like a gymnast, and grabbed onto one of the limbs with one hand, he then hooked the pole onto two of the branches, swung himself up, and sat on the limb placing the pole before him.

For a few minutes, Michael sat on the limb catching his breath from the exhilarating workout he got from the dogs. He then balances the poll on the branch, gets up, and climbs towards one of the fruits, he picks one, rubs it on his shirt, and bites into it, then nods his head in approval.

He picks another climb back down to the branch he was on before and sits back down. As if feeling a pair of eyes burning into him he glances up towards the window where Razor is standing.

His intense dark eyes met and held Razor's hostile pair for a few seconds before Razor turned and walked away from the window. Michael snorts and returns to eating his fruit.

"Hey." Someone said from the ground. Michael looked down and saw a young man looking up at him.

 Thank you all for reading

Words of encouragement

God is going to send you places, you don't feel

Qualified to go

God doesn't call the qualified

He qualified the called

Ans for riddle from ch 15

When it's ground, get it ground?

Ha, can't get enough of them

Now here's another one

What do you call a zombie drummer?