The Golden Oak Inn was a high-end hotel in the centre of London, defined by an ancient oak tree that stemmed from the pavement outside the hotel's revolving door – it was a strange anomaly amidst the surrounding chaos of the bustling city but sparked intrigue from tourists that came from all over the world to stay in The Golden Oak Inn.

It was proudly owned by Desmond Hollow. He was a wealthy businessman in the region as The Golden Oak Inn generated him significant revenue, but he wasn't interested in the money; he enjoyed the variety of guests that attended the hotel and the conversational aspect of the job.

It was an autumn day – the leaves of the oak tree outside were a true golden brown - when The Golden Oak had a special guest. Desmond had never heard of Dorian Hawke but had been told that he was a very important person. It was specific on his booking that he was not to be asked any questions and be kept guarded of at all times. Desmond was excited for his arrival – it would liven up his week, he thought... but he was unbeknownst to what lay ahead of him.

On the day of the arrival of Dorian Hawke, Desmond greeted him with a handshake, and he was quickly escorted to his room by his bodyguards. It disappointed Desmond that he had not been able to talk more to this man about his work, but at the same time, he was rather glad that he hadn't been able to. Dorian seemed fierce and foreboding when his eyes pierced through Desmond soul and his hand gripped his during their handshake.

It bemused Desmond that Dorian seemed to look like him: his swiped-back hair that followed behind his ears and his small stature.

Desmond entered his office and continued working – it was a large task to run a high-end hotel. He continued on his laptop for the next two hours until he heard a crash that boomed through the hotel corridors coming from the foyer. The sound followed upstairs to his office and the VIP suites – the furthermost room being the one Dorian Hawke was in. As he swung open the office door and found himself in the hallway, Desmond could hear what was happening. A group of mercenaries, with assault rifles and katanas stampeded through the hallway perpendicular to the one Desmond was stood in – and at the end of this corridor, Dorian Hawke.

A booming voice came from the distant corridor, "Where is Dorian Hawke?!"

The echo travelled to Desmond, who was paralysed with fear and infested with anxiety. He had been asked to protect Dorian with his life. As he sprinted down the hallway to Dorian's room, Desmond pounded his fists on the door.

"Dorian, listen carefully. I need you to open that door but do it quietly. There are mercenaries in the building, and they're in a different corridor right now. And they are after you! I need your cooperation now, so open the door," Desmond knew Dorian was in the room, but there was no response from him.

As he continued to plead for Dorian's cooperation and realised that there was no chance in getting him to unlock the door, Desmond understood that he would have to abandon his duty to keep Dorian safe.

Racing down the hallway, searching for a storage room to hide in, Desmond was frantic and panicked. In that second, the mercenaries charged down the hallway and pointed at Desmond.

"Dorian! I have found him!" a mercenary called to his group.

He was pointing at Desmond... the finger slicing the air in the dimly lit hallway.

"I am not Dorian!" Desmond spluttered, but it was too late.

A barrage of bullets pinged off picture frames as Desmond ducked.

In that instant, Dorian's room unlocked at the end of the corridor, his guards also shooting their rifles down the hallway. Caught in the crossfire, with the mercenaries still believing that Desmond was Dorian, one man drew a katana from its sheath and sliced through the air. With steel brandished, he struck, the blade making contact with Desmond carving a horizontal laceration taking both of his eyes out! The mercenary continued as the katana severed both of his arms.

Dorian and his bodyguards managed to kill the rest of the mercenaries, but by this time, it was too late. A pool of blood was getting bigger as Desmond sat in it, his eyes mushed and arms severed – detached from his body, resting in the lake of blood.

Wasting no time at all, Dorian swung Desmond on his back and raced to the hospital – he was lucky as the hospital was only a five-minute walk.

Surgeons operated on him tirelessly to save his life – for he was an important figure in London. They concluded that he would have to sacrifice his eyes and arms. Desmond was given bionic eyes connected to his retina that enabled him to see again and had his hands and forearm sown back onto his upper arm. His two arms were shorter, however, they worked perfectly. Desmond had survived the impossible, and it made him realise how much to value life.

****

After selling the hotel, Desmond sought a serene early retirement, away from the busting city. He searched persistently until he found a place where he could be away from the city but at the same time connected with people. He found Horror Hill – a boarding house for people who had experienced trauma or were considered 'abnormal'. Although he didn't like this term, he accepted it and had been a member of Horror Hill ever since. When he arrived, he would put his past behind him and go by the new name of... Sir Hollow Eyes!