Mr. Smith was bathing in the moment. His skin shivered with delight. “Some people may call me evil, sick, or twisted but I know what I am. By an act of fate, your true enemy stands before you. The man solely responsible for countless years of misery.” Mr. Smith rubbed my back. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now. I myself have never been a family man but I understand revenge all too well.”
Mr. Smith cocked a revolver and placed it in my lap and then walked back to his desk. “I tried to turn myself in,” Evo said desperately. Shut up, my thoughts screamed but my throat was dry and only hissed when I opened it.
“I sat in my car outside the station calling Kira’s phone. It just kept ringing. I wanted to tell her goodbye... tell her how I was sorry, and how much I loved her. It rang and rang and rang... and then my phone rang. I picked it up and a man’s voice was on the other end; a man’s voice that I never wanted to have sound familiar. A man’s voice telling me that my only friends would be killed if I didn’t listen to him, didn’t do exactly as he said,” Evo still wouldn’t make eye contact. He was staring at a spot on the floor but his eyes seemed distant.
“He said that Gothamsreckoning had shown interest in me and that I could get close, that I was saving our nation and doing our country a great service.” Evo crawled toward me, dragging his hands and feet as if he didn’t deserve to have control of them. “I had only seen a picture of you, a picture that he would wave over my head when he felt he was losing his grip on me... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was a fraction of a second,” Evo said grabbing the silver muzzle of the revolver and placing it against his forehead, “a fraction of a second that caused an eternity of pain.”
I covered his mouth with my hand squishing his face closed until silence gripped him. A fire was rising inside me, the need to destroy existence in its entirety. The overwhelming sensation of self-destruction seized me. I wanted to blow my brains out, I wanted to drink barrels of vodka, I wanted to gut myself and eat my insides; I needed to lose myself...
My mind was in a psychotic frenzy that I couldn’t control, like I was jacked up on a mountain of cocaine, zooming through every painful thing I could do to myself. Blood began to ooze out of Evo’s lips as I felt his gums give way to his front teeth. “Mark no,” Silvia screamed. Her words were void of meaning. They entered my ears only to be devoured by the psychotic storm brewing in my brain. And that gun, that fucking gun watching me...watching my pain from Mr. Miller’s hands.
I didn’t feel the bullets pass through. I only felt Mr. Miller’s face caving under my force. I was upon him in an instant, playing in his brain matter, tossing and turning it in my fists to the screams that filled the room. The bump in my face could have been a bullet but I wasn’t sure, the realm where physical pain existed was lost.
Something distant called upon me. The hollow man, demanding control of my chaos, attempting to leverage his gun. A physical toy that bore no threat. It waved in his hand, his words banging louder in my head than the gun’s caliper. That sickening boom of his voice drew me away from the soft putty that was once Mr. Miller’s head. I charged. I felt a jab to my chest and shoulder, two thumps... it kind of tickled.
The weight of Mr. Smith’s body might work. It was light, but manageable. The scarecrow had just enough meat on him to break through the double paned glass that separated us from the adjacent room. “Wait, wait, you need me. You’ll all die. This country... No this WORLD NEEDS ME. They’ll kill us all you fucking CHINK, YOU CHINK LOVING MOTHER FU.........” he screamed but I couldn’t understand it. It was all gibberish like a made up language that held no value. I laughed at its alien sound.
The Sarin gas device fit perfectly down his esophagus with the proper amount of force. Blood filled in around it, gurgling in his throat... His cries and screams muffled to his drowning song. I think I remember a story he told about the device and someone’s esophagus, or maybe I saw it in a movie. I couldn’t remember, I was too busy emptying the contents of a trashcan to think. It had a military grade black bag inside that wrapped nicely around his head. I was happy that he used duct tape on the prisoners because it made it easier to seal the bag to his throat. A front row seat to his death sounded glorious, a one-way ticket to the beyond. Something pulled at my body, yanking me from my prime time view. It dragged me through the door. I struggled to watch, to see the gas consume his body. I wanted to see it spray from all of his orifices. Tentacles of arms restrained my thrashes, and pulled me into darkness. I would only be able to imagine. My eyes grew heavy, weighted by evil dreams. Goodbye Mr. Smith... Goodbye world.... Goodbye Sylvia... Come now darkness, and swallow me whole...