Dark Fiction/Poetry

And Bealz, with his brutal face and heart of... well, not gold, perhaps, but something far more complex, was the master of ceremonies in this grand, perverse ballet.

I was here from a... let's say, an invitation. A summons from Bealz, the ruler of this twisted domain. They say his face was forged from the very essence of darkness, a brutal reminder of the power he wields. And when he looked at me, his eyes burned with an inner fire that seemed to strip my soul bare.