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"You do realize you're about to die, right?"
"Mmbm mbm, mbmbmbmbmm!"
"What?" Matthew asked. "I couldn't understand you with this gun in your mouth." The solitary light in the room, a dilapidated old lamp, reflected dully off the gun metal. The other man was kneeling on the ground, his hands bound behind his back with rope. The curtain was drawn tight over the shop's window so no one could see what was transpiring. "Here, let me remove this gun for you. Please, continue."
"Fuck you, motherfucker!" the man responded, spitting at Matthew's face. His blue eyes were squinted with fury.
Matthew sighed. Wiping the spit from his face with his sleeve, he chuckled. "Cute, Daniel," he said. "Real cute."
"You don't fuckin' scare me, bit-"
"Allow me to interrupt." A big grin spread across Matthew's face. "I've decided to let you live." Daniel's eyes widened in disbelief. Matthew laughed, causing his short brown hair to bounce. He walked around behind Daniel and untied the ropes. "Yes, Daniel my boy, you shall live."
"Is this some kind of sick fuckin' joke?" Daniel wheeled around to face Matthew.
"On the contrary. Stand up." Daniel obliged. "I've got what I came for," Matthew said, patting his jeans pocket. It was bulgin, and a few twenty dollar bills were hanging out. "I'm gonna let you live. However, I should inform you of one last detail . . ."
"Yeah, what's that?" Daniel sneered, rubbing his wrists.
Matthew pointed the gun at Daniel's legs. "There are fates worse than death." He pulled the trigger, blowing out Daniel's left knee. Daniel screamed in agony as he crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. Matthew then shot out Daniel's right knee.
"You fuckin' bastard! Fuck you!" Daniel screamed hysterically. A large pool of blood was spreading as he sobbed and grabbed hopelessly at his knees.
Matthew laughed. "Such language, Daniel! You ought to respect your betters!" He shot Daniel again, this time in the shoulder. "Have a nice life, friend." As Daniel lay there on the ground sobbing, Matthew put his gun in his jacket, turned, and walked out the door into the dark alley. He glanced down at his watch. It was twenty minutes to eight. The night was still young. Matthew walked over to his car, a blue piece of junk, and drove away. "Hopefully the next robbery will go better," Matthew muttered. "I hate getting blood on my shoes . . ."
Fifteen years later . . .
"Have you found him yet, Cain?"
"No, Boss."
"This disappoints me greatly, Cain."
"Yes, Boss."
"I want him found. Soon."
"I know, Boss."
"Do you?" Cain looked to the ground. "You say that Cain, but I don't know if I believe you. You keep saying you'll find him . . .yet here we are."
"I'm sorry, Boss."
"I know you are, Cain. I know you are. And that seems to be the root of our problem right now."
"What do you mean, Boss?"
"Give me your gun."
"Okay, Boss. Here you go."
"Goodbye, Cain. Give my regards to Lucifer." He pulled the trigger. Cain dropped to the ground, a gaping hole in his forehead. "Peter! Get in here!"
Peter charged in from a door off to the side. "Yeah, Boss?"
"Here, take Cain's gun." He tossed the gun to Peter. "I'll only say this once, so you had better listen carefully. FIND HIM! Alive, if possible."
"Will do, Boss."
"You'd better make sure you do, for your sake."
* * *
"How the fuck do I get myself into these situations?" Matthew asked himself as he dove behind the dumpster. "These bastards have been after me for damn near six years now!" Bullets ricocheted off the dirty green metal, imbedding themselves into the dingy concrete walls of the alley. He pulled his pistol out of his jacket and cocked it. He waited until there was a brief halt in the gunfire, then jumped up and fired off several shots back down the alley. There was a scream followed by a dull thud. More gunfire rang out and Matthew dropped back behind the dumpster again. "I think I got one!" Several seconds passed, then the gunfire stopped again. As he was preparing to fire back, he heard a voice.
"Matthew Kayrwen!"
"They know my name?" Matthew asked to himself.
"If you surrender, we might not kill you!" the voice said.
"How do you know my name?"
"We know many things about you, Mr. Kayrwen."
"Who are you?"
"Who we are is not important right now. All that matters is that you give yourself up to us, or we'll be forced to kill you. Either way, you're coming with us."
"You'll never take me alive, pigs!" Matthew laughed. "Heh, I always wanted to say that!"
The voice sighed. "Have it your way, Mr. Kayrwen." The man started talking to another man, but from Matthew's distance the words were unrecognizable.
"Time to make my escape," Matthew said, pulling out a small cylinder form his jacket. He turned a small dial, then tapped the cylinder on the ground. A small LED display lit up showing the number "5." Matthew pressed a button and the display started counting down. 5 . . .4 . . .3 . . .2 . . .Throwing the cylinder over the dumpster, Matthew jumped up and ran the opposite direction down the alley. A second later an ear-shattering explosion reverberated off the brick walls of the alley. Matthew was fast enough to get safely away form the explosion. At the end of the alley was a wooden fence that Matthew easily jumped. Waiting for him on the other side were three large men with rather large guns.
"We figured you'd try that trick again, Matt."
"Fuck." Matthew frowned.
The men leveled their guns on Matthew. "We's authorized to use deadly force this time, Matty m'boy," one of the men said.
"Drop the gun, Matthew," said another.
Kneeling slightly, Matthew placed the gun on the ground. "No need to be rash, guys. I'll come peacefully."
"Wise choice, Matt." The man grabbed Matthew's arms and pulled them behind his back. Handcuffing him, he escorted him to a black car parked down the street.
"You obviously know my name . . .what's yours?" Matthew asked the man guiding him to the car.
"I'm Peter. This here's Joshua, and the guy drivin' is Joseph." Peter opened the door and shoved Matthew inside, then followed him in.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll find out when we get there, Matty," Joshua said.
"Okay, guess that's fair . . ."
A short while later
The black car pulled up to a large warehouse that was seemingly abandoned. The windows were boarded up tight and weeds were growing up all around it. The cement walls were cracked heavily, and whatever paint was covering them had long since peeled off. Peter and Joshua hauled Matthew out while Joseph opened the side door. Peter shoved Matthew through the door and followed him. "You two wait outside."
"Sure thing, Peter," Joseph said. The door shut.
The interior of the warehouse was dark, and visibility was nonexistent. In the distance was a faint squeaking sound. Peter pulled a device out of his pocket and pressed a button. Directly in front of Matthew appeared a wooden cross. A lamp on the ceiling illuminated it.
"What's that for?" Matthew asked. His voice echoed back at him.
Peter smiled. "I'll show you." He dragged Matthew over to the cross and shoved him against it. He took the handcuffs off and fastened Matthew's arms to the crossbeams. He then secured his legs to the main post. Peter then stepped back and pushed another button on the little device. The warehouse was completely dark again.
Matthew looked panicked. "What the fuck is going on?"
"All will be revealed," spoke a voice from the darkness, reverberating eerily off the cement walls.
"What the fuck is going on?" Matthew asked again. There was electronic beep and the lights came on. Teen feet in front of him sat a man in a wheelchair. His head was shaved and his eyes were constantly squinted. A green wool blanket covered his lap. "Who are you?"
The man looked both sad and surprised. "You mean to tell me you don't remember me?"
"No, I don't. Should I?"
"Yes! Yes you should!"
"And why is that?"
"Because you ruined my fucking life!"
Matthew was stumped. "Can you be more specific? I've ruined plenty of peoples' lives."
The man sighed. "I know you have. I've been keeping as close an eye on you as possible. You sicken me with your wanton disregard for human life and other people's feelings." The man spat on the ground.
Matthew was speechless. He stared at the bald man.
"What's wrong, Matthew? Cat got your tongue?
"I remember you now."
"You do?"
"Yes . . .Daniel, right?"
"Yes!"
"Hey, look pal. I'm real sorry. It was nothing personal. You just had money that I needed, so I took it. If you would have just cooperated, none of this would have had to have happened."
Daniel was flabbergasted. "Nothing personal? NOTHING PERSONAL!?"
"Uh . . .yeah . . ."
Daniel's fists were shaking and his face was turning red. "I wanted to kill you for almost ten years. Every night I dreamt of your blood spilling on the floor. Every night I dreamt that I was standing-standing-over your limp, lifeless body. Several years ago I came across a rather large sum of money and hired men to find you. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, Matthew."
"Can't we work something out?" Matthew pleaded. Sweat was rolling off of his forehead.
Daniel shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Matthew." Matthew frowned. "In the last five years I've been doing a lot of thinking about . . .things . . .and I now no longer want to kill you."
"You don't?"
"No."
Matthew was relieved. "Why not?"
"Because, as you so eloquently put it those many years ago, there are fates worse than death." Matthew's jaw dropped open. Daniel pulled out a gun from under the blanket on his lap.