(no subject)
He's awake on the floor and slowly breathing. Above his stands a circle of men, all with eyes focused on him. Within their hands are rifles, all aimed straight at his head. The devil, that's all he can think to remember. What happened to the devil?
The men standing above him, they don't move, they're so silent it's as if they don't breathe either.
Footsteps slowly circle around the quiet room, as a humming noise flutters about Martirio's head. Rubbing at the back of his skull, he feels something warm and slightly sticky. He puts his hand in front of his face to find his hand covered in blood. His stomach immediately goes nauseous.
"For the blow, I'm sorry," a voice says, directly behind him. Looking up, the Devil smiles a menacing grin above him. "You were hysterical, and it was the only thing that came to mind."
"Who are you?" Martirio asks. As his words fall from his mouth, he becomes aware of his fear. Which gives birth to his shaky hands.
"Who I am, is not important," the devil says. "What I am...is."
He now stands directly in front of Martirio. He wears a black suit and a black tie with a long black over-coat. He looks like super-villain of sort. The devil mask tucks under the collar of his black t-shirt and dissapears beneath.
Slowly, he kneels towards Martirio.
In fear, withdraws his head, slightly crawling backwards.
"I am the head of this little organization. The CEO of this enterprise from which money and product has been appropriated. I entrusted my former employee with safe-guarding said possesions and he failed me. Thus, I was forced to relieve him of his position," as he speaks he raises his hand and points to the now dead Rafael. A hole flowers out from his forehead exposing skull and other tissue as blood trickles down his empty face.
Martirio begins to feel even more ill and gags loudly. He dry heaves as the gravity situation pulls down on him even harder.
"There, there, my son. Fear not, for you are in good hands. The intricacies and details of the occasion leading to our encounter here as we are have all been explained to me in full detail," Martirio listens as the man speaks. His voice dances upon the air, almost singingly.
"You are employed in the states and take our product from here to there and turn profits, I understand. This is of no concern to me, what is of concern is your friend's actions. I do say your friend's because I dont believe you had anything to do with it. I don't think you'd be foolish enough to come back here. Your eyes tell me otherwise."
His head now shaking, "No", Martirio can feel his throat swelling. This devil's gaze penetrates through him.
"My mask, does it frighten you?"
Eyes white like moonlight and two dots of black spinning within, Martirio stares an open-mouthed gaze.
"It's quite alright, my son," he says rising to a stand.
He turns his back and the mask is off swiftly.
"The devil has no face," Martirio whispers.
When he turns back around, his coat spins and fans out at his feet. His black coat goes solid as he stands still before Martirio. His black tie stands out now on his neck as now the scars are visible. The healed slit along his jugular looks like a stain on his skin. His right cheek is scared as if branded. Scar tissue runs from his left cheek diagonally across his face. Huge black sunglasses with the thick white frames hide his eyes and the remainder of the scar on his left cheek.
Martirio's breath is stifled as he chokes on his own fear. Looking the man over, he begins to realize that this dream is now over. This is really happening.
"You're wondering about my face," he says from behind the bug-eyed shades. "My profession affords me infinite luxuries and equal enemies. This profession wasn't my choosing...consider it a family business, an obligation. My brother ran the business until he ran out of life. They dropped off his body at our mother's doorstep, naked and burned. Therefore, I had to take over. It wasn't long before my family's enemies were after me and as easy as they got to my brother, they got to me. I was kidnapped and held for what felt an eternity. They tried cutting my face off, as my left cheek screams out. They slit my throat and kept me from dying. I came to the realization that believing you're going to die everyday and thinking you're dead everyday is worse than just one single death. I also came to the realization that I was no longer afraid of death, and I was going to begin living again. One day, I bit through the throat of one of my guard's who had been torturing me. Tasting his blood changed my life," with this the man finally stops speaking and draws in a deep breath of air.
"I got out of my hell, and was determined to unleash a hell of my own. I murdered more men and was the cause of death for so many men that it feels as if nothing to me. I dot no blame anything or anyone for what has happened to my family and I. We do not choose and are not chosen, my son. Just as you have not chosen this day nor has it chosen you. We simply live."
"Before all this, I was a school teacher, I loved children for their eyes were clean of guilt, sin. I see something like that in you. A purity of some sort. You had no hand in this matter or else you wouldn't have had the ignorance to return to such a scene of crime. However, you are implicated which leaves you obligated to this whole matter." Now he turns and walks the room of rifles. As he circles, he touches each barrel of each rifle and all the men with their arms at their sides stand at attention.
Martirio is amazed by the calm in this man's movements. His manner is like no other, so cool, so reposed. Martirio's fear now visibly vanished from his face invites the man to speak again.
"My son, I give to you the opportunity to save yourself. I feel as if you've been mislead, as if someone has taken you and used you. Hence, I give you salvation."
Kneeling to Martirio's prostrated body he whispers "You will see the light of day, if you tell me who took what rightfully belongs to me."
The others, the boys, the thought of them makes his jaws clench in rage. They led him to his death and didn't think twice. Never being one to believe in an eye-for-an-eye, Martirio mulls it over inside his head. They will kill these boys he considered friends for a moment. This devil of a man will make sure they never see the light of day again.
"Then so be it," Martirio says, his voice shining with dignity.
And so Martirio spills everything, names, addresses, phone numbers, lives...everything.
When it's all over, the man stands and reaching inside his coat, reveals the mask once again.
"This mask is my face. It is now who i am. My face, the face I allowed you to see, is no longer my own. It belongs to the men who took me. They took who I was. You are your own, my son. Don't ever let anyone take that from you. Especially not those whom you consider to be friends. Stay yours,"
Martirio nods, with the realization of something new. As if he'd had a new pair of eyes dropped right into his head.
He was seeing now, for the first time. It had taken this devil of a man, but something had changed in him.
"What comes next is my men will blindfold you and put you in a van. You will be taken somewhere else in this town and dropped off. This is for both of our safeties. I hope you can understand."
Nodding his head again, Martirio smiles as the world around him gets tucked under the black of cloth blinding him from everything.