How Evil Dies: Chapter 3 – Strength and Violence

Chapter 3 – Strength and Violence

It’s finally done. My armor, my symbol of strength, and my continuation of my family’s legacy are complete. After fighting and killing my parents in combat, I’ve taken their skin and bones to make a skull helmet and sewn their skin into mine just as their parents and grandparents did before. Included in this mixture are the bones and skin of their most worthy foes that they have bested that also have their own mixture in their bodies.

Looking into the mirror, I see a warrior worthy of my family’s name. I see Vi who is not a simple knave like the rest of the people in the Fighter’s district and who will instead become the Victor, who is the strongest person in the district. To obtain the title of Victor is to reach the summit of life and to lose it is death and to never reach it is tragedy. Strength and victory are everything. To become strong and obtain victory over everyone is life’s goal. Today, I seek to honor my family’s legacy by starting my hunt for new strength afresh with my new enhancements.

The streets of the Fighter’s district are soaked with blood and the people here either have guards with them, are feared, respected, bold, or incredibly idiotic. There would be endless fights in the streets if most people didn’t agree that a fight should only happen when challenged. Still, some will start fights unannounced or kill their prey in cowardly ways like they do in the Business district through tools such as poisons, explosives, mechanical “accidents”, or overwhelming numbers. The acquisition of strength should be through head-on fights, which seem to be getting rarer these days, especially with all the chaos that is happening in the other districts. Regardless, the new prey coming into the district is perfect for the weaklings and those looking for a job. I, on the other hand, am only looking to further my strength.

As I look for the perfect target to practice my newfound strength on, I eventually find a group of weaklings who are pretending to be strong just because they’re protecting a merchant of alcohol and drugs from the Sense district. They look at me as if I’m a foolish lost child and whisper to themselves while laughing.

“I challenge you all to a fight,” I say to them.

“Challenge us? There’s four of us and only one of you,” one of them says.

“I need something to test my new enhancements and you four look like good practice.”

“Practice, huh? We accept your challenge and you’ll see that we are more than mere practice. We’re your last fight.”

All four guards come at me at once as the crowd around us spreads out to give us space to fight. To clear some space for myself, I use my blade arm to make the guards back off so I can go on the offensive. Leaping forward, I cut one of the guards in half with my blade arm and then immediately go to crush the next guard’s head with my large left arm. The last two guards try cutting at my left arm and breaking it with their own blade arms and stone-like fists and I let them try to test the strength of my arm. Nothing happens as a result of their attacks even as they switch to attack my face and then body, which reassures me of the quality of my newfound enhancements. To make them stop their pathetic attempts at piercing my skin, I cut both of them in half in one swing to end the fight.

Around me, the crowds disperse to go see the next fight that is happening down the street with the rest of them carrying on as if nothing happened. That fight was a bit too easy, but at least I know I won’t have to take the skin of these lowly guards and that what I have now is of good quality. Now I have to find a better challenge since I hardly broke a sweat during this fight.

“Excuse me, sir,” the merchant says.

“What is it?” I say.

“Well, since you killed my guards, I thought I’d offer you the job to replace them. It’ll just be for a few hours, but you’ll be paid as if you worked the entire day.”

I could use the money. My enhancements do make me stronger, but they don’t negate the need for me to eat and drink. I need to get those particular ones from certain mighty warriors of legend, which is a challenge that I’ll seek when I think I’m ready.

“I’ll take it.”

“Thank you! I really appreciate it and you won’t regret this.”

What the merchant claims seems to be correct as I escort him to the people he deals with and encounter many people who challenge me to a fight or try to take his life because he is either their competition or because he’s from a different district. By the time the merchant pays me, twenty people have been slain by my hand. Because of this display, I get triple the amount of wealth along with the promise that he’ll hire me again and recommend me to his friends.

“Can I hire you for one last request for the day? It’s a small one, but it may be needed for my safety,” the merchant says.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Could you escort me back to my stronghold in the Sense district? Even though I’m sure that you struck fear into everyone in this district and others will think twice about coming after me, I still can’t be too sure, especially in this economy.”

“I accept.”

“Thank you, thank you a million times over!”

At first, the merchant’s fears look to be a result of paranoia and the reality of being in the Fighter’s district. That is until we are approached by the Victor just as we are exiting the district. Everyone moves aside as he walks towards us, his eyes on all three heads unblinkingly staring at us and his mouth dripping fresh blood and drool. Since he is obviously looking for a fight, I watch his blade arms, muscular legs, and bloody stomach mouth that chomps at us as if it’s unable to control itself at the sight of perceived prey. The other parts to note on him are the heads of his victims that hang on a string around his neck and his crown made out of fingers and intestines.

“Vi! You’ve been making quite the name for yourself after defeating your parents in a duel. I would’ve let you be, but your sudden rise in popularity has piqued my interest in dueling with you. What do you say? You’d really make a name for yourself and your family whether you live or die,” the Victor says.

This chance I have at becoming the strongest in the district is so alluring that I begin to salivate and smile uncontrollably.

“I accept!” I say before leaping into battle.

To defend himself, the Victor meets my left fist with his blade and hand arm. When our blows collide, both the blade and arm are broken by the force of my attack, but he keeps attacking with it as if nothing happened and he doesn’t feel any pain. I continue my attack with my blade arm to dismember this broken arm and then cut at his muscular legs to stop his constant advance on me, which hardly slows him down. Using his last arm, he tries to impale me and keeps stomping his feet down to crush my feet. I keep backing away until I use a trick I have up my sleeve or rather on my back. When I turn my back to the Victor, I use the spikes on my back to impale him before turning back around and cutting through his last arm and his head.

While backing away, the Victor thrashes around with his dismembered arms and damaged legs until I cut and beat him down until his body is nothing more than bits and pieces. Victory is mine. The honor of being the new Victor now belongs to me and my family is honored in that way. I raise my arms in the air and yell out as the crowds around me either cower in fear, plot my death, or yell out with me as tradition dictates when one Victor is dead and another takes their place. By the time the high the victory gives me is over, I realize that I have completely forgotten about the merchant.

He should be fine so close to the Sense district and with everyone being distracted by the duel and my victory. This is what I think at first until I eventually find him dead at the hands of a warrior from the Fighter’s district. The warrior throws the body of the merchant to the ground as if it were wet putrid trash and then looks at me with a kind of fearlessness that takes me back a bit. He must’ve not witnessed me win the fight or have been so focused on getting to the merchant that he didn’t know it was going on.

“I was protecting that man,” I say to the warrior.

“Well, your contract with him is up. You can take your pay off his body if you want and you’re fine with dirty money,” the warrior says.

“I had a responsibility to protect him and I intend to avenge him because of that.”

“Are you willing to die for that piece of trash? He had my daughter and the daughters and sons of many people that he sells to the perverse.”

“I had a responsibility and that is it. I hope you felt better after killing him because that is the last thing you will do.”

As I fight the warrior, I begin to see two of him. What kind of trick is this? Am I tired from all of today’s fighting? Did he or the previous Victor poison me somehow during the fight? I don’t feel anything, and yet, the secondary phantom of him persists and results in me getting thrown off and hit and slashed several times. Now I’m hearing a quiet voice distracting me. It’s audible and not. It’s outside of my head and not. What’s going on? All these inescapable distractions give the edge to the warrior leading to my skull helmet being smashed off my face and my getting knocked out by him.

Waking up sometime later, I find myself tied up in chains and laying in some kind of soft green bed. At first, I think I’m dead because no one fights another in this district without killing their opponent. After realizing that I’m still alive, I struggle to get out of it thinking that the soft green things are like the drugs that the people in the Sense district use. A few minutes pass and it’s obvious that I’m too weak from the fight to move at all. It’s then that the warrior walks into the circular room that I’m in.

“It’s good to see you’re awake,” the warrior says before sitting on a chair.

“Good? Why’s that? Why didn’t you kill me?” I ask.

“Because I had the feeling to. It was probably the Quiet, blessed be the holy silence.”

“The Quiet? That must’ve been what was distracting me. I should’ve known.”

“Did it now? What makes you say that?”

“While we were fighting, I heard an inaudible voice. I also saw an afterimage of you as if there were two of you fighting against me at the same time.”

“I did silently pray for help from the Quiet. I didn’t expect it to help me that much. Again, blessed be the holy silence. May it be blessed and honored until the end of days and beyond it.”

“Well, if it made you spare me for whatever reason, I struggle to think of the reason. Because my reign as the Victor was cut short, I am an embarrassment in the eyes of everyone in the Fighter’s district, the Complex, my family, and myself.”

“You want to die because I embarrassed you? Trust me when I say that being feared and honored in this world doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Then what does?”

“Living and dying in the right way for love and truth.”

“Pfft. What a ridiculous goal in life. What use is love and truth without power and strength? What even is truth? What is love? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s what the strongest person defines it as.”

“You sound like the young man who blew up the main generator in the Business district and was hanging while still alive. Did you know that he was taken down recently and said to have been influenced by the Quiet? It’s said that his body was removed because he had a weird peace to him that was infecting whoever looked at him. The bodies of his parents do much the same to whoever goes near their graves and his parents were said to have been influenced by the Quiet as well.”

“Well, I won’t end up like him in fate or in mindset.”

“I thought that way too when I was younger, but the Quiet can change that faster than you think. I should get going. Like I said, my daughter was being sold by that merchant, so I’ll be back with her.”

“Do you really think you can do that? You have a target on your back as the new Victor and will face many lust-obsessed slavers.”

“I beat you in a fight, didn’t I? If the Quiet allowed me to do that, then I have high hopes that I’ll be allowed to rescue my daughter. Goodbye, for now.”

As the new Victor leaves, I struggle to get out of my chains until I realize the reality of what I said before. Since I was defeated, I am an embarrassment, a pathetic waste of life that doesn’t deserve to live anymore for bringing shame to my family and my name. I should let whatever calm from this greenery overtake me and hopefully end my suffering. Again, I pass out, hope I have died, and instead wake up feeling better. The Victor walks into the room with fruits, vegetables, and water on a tray and sits on the same chair as before.

“Did you find your daughter?” I ask.

“I did and thankfully I was able to get to her before she could be raped. She’s kept her purity, but since she fought against them, they beat and dosed her with their drugs. It may take a while for her to wake up,” the Victor says.

“Speaking of drugs, what is this green plant that you have me laying in?”

“It’s no drug or artificial plant. It’s just plain soft grass. I know it may seem strange to you since everything natural was expunged from the Complex though true nature still exists beyond these walls, hallways, and impossibly high ceilings. Did you really think that from the beginning of time that the world was always one man-made building?”

“It’s not something that I’ve cared to think about though I have heard that schools in the Business district teach that.”

“Here, taste these. This is what true nature tastes like.”

The Victor carefully feeds me an apple as if I’ll bite his hand off. When I taste the apple, I find that it tastes better than I expected.

“This tastes good. Where did you get it?”

“I found it growing from the ground. It’s better than what the plastic, artificial plants can grow, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

I am fed and given drinks by the Victor until he has nothing left to give me. The strangeness of the situation hasn’t hit me until now.

“Why are you doing this for me?” I ask.

“Because the Quiet has influenced me to do so and who I am to argue?” he says.

“It’s a mystery to me as to why that is.”

“That’s the way the truth is. While I was in the Sense district, I heard that the woman who burned the red veils over there was influenced by the Quiet and is being tortured by the Sense. The Sense loves to play with her food, but it seems like this woman is driving the Sense insane with her resistance to the point where she’s nearly given up on breaking her and now rarely visits her. I’ve heard whispers of a plan to get that woman out of her predicament. It’s a wonder to me how both the young man and woman were able to put up with being tortured and somehow holding on. The Quiet must truly be with them and has blessed them tremendously.”

“I’d hardly call being tortured day in and out a blessing.”

“Oh, but it is, in a way. To suffer for true love is an honor above all honors. It’s said that in true suffering you can sense the Quiet the most and have a taste of what real peace and Heaven feels like.”

“Ha! Then Heaven must be a Hell just like this world is.”

“Boy, I have a lot to explain to you about how reality truly is.”

For the next week or so, the Victor tells me about the Quiet and nature of truth and love. He also tells me his real name and tells me not to refer to him as the Victor anymore. I was never one for philosophy and deep thought. Instead, my mind has always been centered around the ways of the fist, blade, and strength, and yet, Semper does pique my interest in what we talk about a lot of which is a lot for me to take in. What I remember most from our conversations is his past as a bodyguard for a wealthy family in the Business district. He used to work for the Board before his conscience was influenced by the Quiet. After which, the Board saw no use for him and tried to kill him, but he somehow survived, got married to a woman from the Sense district that he converted, and started his family here in this underground section between the Fighter’s and Sense district.

“It’s still surprising to me that I was able to change my wife’s way of living and thinking. People over there don’t get married or like relationships that aren’t one-sided,” Semper says.

“Where is she now?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, she died protecting our daughter. I was too slow and weak to protect either of them that day and…no. There’s no reason to regret it now. I did what she wanted me to do.”

Semper wipes his face as if he were wiping away invisible tears. Some time passes and he begins to loosen my chains and take them off one day at a time until they’re all off. He backs off a bit with his fists clenched to see if I’ll do anything.

“You can trust me. I have no reason to fight or kill you,” I say.

“You never know who you can trust these days. Everyone is out for themselves more than ever before. You should know by now that even the blunt warriors in the Fighter’s district even trade in lies and rise through the ranks by using underhanded means,” Semper says.

“It’s a symptom of being the last district that hasn’t been adversely affected like the other districts.”

“I know. That’s why I need you to sharpen your skills. I have a feeling that the Quiet is going to inspire someone to do something radical here to change it just like the other districts. Spar with me and let’s get your skills back up to snuff.”

“You want me to fight with you?”

“I need you to help me protect my daughter. I have a feeling that’s one of the reasons why the Quiet made me spare you.”

“Okay. It’s not like I have another purpose to live anyway.”

Three weeks pass of training and more talking with Semper. His daughter feels better by the second week and I’m even allowed to see her for the first time. She’s a petite young woman with short brown hair draped in a colorless grayish-brown shirt and a long skirt. Her name is Usha and she is looking at me as if she’s trying to figure me out. We make small talk and nothing happens for the last few days of the three weeks.

The next week comes and I am introduced to the underground community full of runaways who didn’t want to live on the surface anymore. Not many people here have enhancements on their bodies and some even seem to have mutilated themselves to remove them. The buildings here are made of wood and scrap metal and the area is lit up with torches and basic lights. This place has a simple feel to it in contrast to the Complex above. To be honest, it’s not bad and feels quite refreshing. I help the citizens of this place by carrying around heavy things, helping them create weapons, and teaching them how to fight properly.

One day, we are attacked by the people on the surface. They come from holes formed from explosions and entrances we thought were secret making it obvious we were sold out by someone. I can’t worry about who it was now as I fight back the hordes of assassins and kidnappers while trying to keep an eye on Usha and Semper. As our enemies’ numbers begin to overwhelm us, they separate us to pick us off faster. Eventually, Semper gets overwhelmed and Usha gets taken away.

“Save my daughter!” Semper says before dying.

That was strange. I could swear that I heard two voices in Semper’s at that moment. The second voice was quiet and weirdly sounded like the Quiet itself. Shaking off the distracting thought, I tear my way through my enemies while making my way to Usha. I cut and crush my way to her and carry her in my arm and leave my blade arm free so I can defend us and push forward.

“Where’s my dad?! What happened to him?!” Usha says.

“He’s dead. I’m sorry,” I say.

“What?! You’re lying take me back to where he is and let me fight!”

Usha struggles in my arms and because I’m already struggling to fight while holding her, she slips out of my hands and begins to fight with me. She fights like her father and looks like she is fighting with an afterimage of herself fighting with her, but not as well. Even with her help, we can’t make much headway either way and I am eventually stabbed and beaten down by the overwhelming numbers. For some reason, I want to keep on fighting and can feel something within myself still kicking. There’s a quiet voice telling me to fight and continue on. Is that Semper’s voice or the Quiet’s? Why can’t I tell the difference? Following the voice’s advice, I fight in the darkness of my unconsciousness until I wake up in a cell.

My body is completely repaired with the patchwork of different pieces of strong skin that I don’t remember putting on myself. I am chained in a bloodstained cell that has pieces of skin on the floor and corners of the room. A couple of guards are outside my cell, one of which goes away once noticing that I’m awake. This guard brings several guards along with a warrior clothed in the heads and fingers of several people similar to the previous Victor to my cell.

“We were debating whether or not to beat you until you woke up, so it’s a good thing you’ve woken up on your own,” the warrior says.

“What do you want? Where’s the young girl I was with?” I ask.

“She’s safe and well taken care of, at the moment, but her safety depends on your answer to my question. Will you fight and die for her?”

“I will.”

“Oh, don’t answer so quickly now. Don’t think that you’ll be fighting to an end. You’ll be fighting endless waves of every knave, warrior, and guard that I can hire in the district and beyond. You will die and be rebuilt as you are now and given the choice again and again for my entertainment and the entertainment of my spectators.”

“My answer is the same. I have an obligation to keep, so I’ll play your sick game.”

“Haha! I like your grit. I guess it’s to be expected from a former Victor. It’s the whole reason why I’ve let you live and given you this choice. If you choose to let the girl go, I’ll give her to the perverts in the Sense district and you can become one of my guards. A life of comfort and honor awaits you by my side. Again, I’ll ask you. What is your choice?”

“Again, my choice remains the same.”

“Ha, we’ll see after you die a few times.”

The guards unlock a few of my chains and don’t unlock the rest until they’re behind a gate and I’m in the center of a colosseum. I’ve visited colosseums like this in the district with my family to see knaves and warriors fight to the death. Up in the most luxurious seats is the warrior who I just talked to and next to him is Usha who is chained in a cage. She looks at me with hatred in her eyes though this hatred is probably not for me.

As the first wave of knaves enters the Colosseum, Usha screams, “Kill them all, Vi!”

After nodding at her, I plug myself into battle. At first, the knaves and warriors that are sent to fight me are simple to take care of, but as time goes on and as the challenge grows, I grow weaker and sloppier until I suffer my first death. Again, the warrior from before gives me his offer, and again, I reject it. I fight and die several times over with Usha cheering me on and praying for me each day. It feels like I’m living one continuous day with no breaks and feeling of relief or release even in death.

Despite this, I feel something giving me the strength to continue on. There’s that quiet voice again that I hear in Usha’s voice now that I can hear even amid battle. In this quiet, I can vaguely hear Semper’s voice giving me advice and cheering me on with his daughter. Around me, the crowds of the Colosseum cheer me on as well for various reasons. Many come to see me fight until I die a gory death and bet money on how many I kill and how long I survive. The people who are betting on my death take great pleasure in seeing me suffer as shown by the expression on their faces. This is especially true of the warrior who controls all of this as he profits the most from my battles and has seemingly nothing to lose.

After one of my deaths and coming to see me again, he asks, “Tell me, why do you continue on like this? Few have gone through as many deaths as you have and still chose to continue fighting.”

It takes me a second to think about it, but when it’s clear to me, I say, “For truth and love.”

When I say my answer, I can feel and hear the quiet voice that’s been speaking through the silence, Usha, and Semper. The Quiet is now a part of me now that I’ve accepted it.

“Ha! What are those things but tools used by the powerful to exert their will and become gods?”

“They are…a person.”

“Now you’ve really lost your mind. Maybe something went wrong during the surgery. Your next death should clear your mind.”

Today’s another day to fight and die for Usha. As I look up at her, I notice that she’s sad and crying. To raise her spirits, I raise my fist in the air and scream.

“Usha, today, I offer you my life, blood, and suffering and will continue to until your chains are broken and you are freed from your cage. I promise you that you will be free and that they will run out of slaves to throw at me before they break my will,” I proclaim.

The crowds are really excited now. Usha’s sadness is gone as she smiles and continues her prayers for me. In addition, the warrior who runs this and his supporters seem more interested than ever. During today’s battle, I take out more warriors, knaves, and guards than ever before and am even still standing after both of my arms are cut off. For the remainder of this wave, I have to fight with my teeth, legs, and head, and somehow manage to get by. Everyone in the crowds is wilder than before including the supervisors of the Colosseum that are arguing among themselves.

I can see the next wave ahead of me running away in fear as the guards chase after them to get them to fight me. Looking back up at Usha, I see that she’s more hopeful now than before. Now I know the peace of the Quiet and why Semper and others dedicated their lives to it. Even as I stand bleeding and in pain, I am strangely at peace. The guards eventually manage to force some knaves, slaves, and people from the crowds to enter the Colosseum to fight me. With my head held high and my body ready to fight, I give my life in service to love and truth, the most tremendous honor a man can do.

How Evil Dies: Chapter 2 – Happiness and Pleasures

Chapter 2 – Happiness and Pleasures

“Hurry up!” I whisper as loud as I can.

The teenage girl tries her best to keep up with me as I escort her out of the slave auction.

“I’m trying my best,” the girl says.

“You’re going to need to try better if you want to get out of here, now come on!”

I sneak the girl passed her enslavers, guards, and people who would buy her. We go through cracks in the wall that we can hardly fit through and keep to the shadows as we make our way through the Sense district.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re helping me yet?” the girl whispers.

“Because I rescue girls like you and bring them to a better place. Why do you think we’re able to sneak around so well? I’ve done this dozens of times,” I say.

It also helps that the people here are wrapped up in their pleasures, drugs, and alcohol. We make it to a dumbwaiter in a dark corner of the district where no one else is.

“Get in here and I’ll send you down. From there, keep going straight until you see a tall woman. She’s my associate who will lead you the rest of the way out to somewhere better,” I instruct.

The girl does as I say and then says, “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After pressing the button and sending the girl down, I could swear that I hear her screams. There’s the possibility it could be the screams of someone in the distance or my imagination because I know that I’ve lied to her and sent her to a life of slavery. The girl was a virgin who came from the Business district and in the Sense district, virgins are highly sought after and those who can provide a virgin to the Sense are highly rewarded. I’ve been itching to get an overdose of pleasures and drink for a while now. Thankfully, I was able to get this virgin to the Sense before any of my competitors could.

This girl who came from the Business district did so out of desperation and to escape the chaos happening there because a fool destroyed the main generator powering the district. Speaking of him, he still hangs as a living example to others. In the first couple of days of the chaos, he was pelted with thrown objects, but now, he’s left alone though he can’t be happy. I’ve even heard that he’s soiled himself. Even though what he did was stupid, I should thank him one day because his actions have brought more people to the Sense district not only because this district doesn’t rely on the generators powering the complex, but because there’s plenty of work and pleasures, most of all.

To feel and be happy and experience pleasures is the point of life. There’s no other reason to keep on going if there’s no reward that makes you feel alive. Everyone in the Complex works to obtain a happy life full of what they desire. I’m no different as I work day and night so that I can live forever in a life of pleasures. As I pass by a boutique where body modifications are done, I look at myself in one of the many mirrors. The description under the mirror reads, “Your perfection can become even more perfect!”. That marketing line may work on others, but it won’t on me. I know that I’m already perfect.

Every part of my body, every modification I’ve made is perfect. There’s not a single flaw in it. Not in the mouths that I have nor the curves of my body. Nothing needs to be changed. I am perfect the way I am. Every part is perfect, except for the collar around my neck. I wear it as a symbol of being a worker for the Sense who rules over this district.

The Sense is whoever is the most respected, powerful, and has access to the most pleasures and is named after the district because of it since everything goes through them. This current Sense is a woman or at least was until she mutated her body by combining her body with her slaves. Looking at her again as I report back still unnerves me. All her arms, extra fingers, her connected red eyes, and griotique phallic mouths are a few of the things to stick out, but the bodies writhing in her own as if they are still alive are the most disturbing things. I can even still make out the heads and faces of the previous people she’s fused with her still barely showing. My eyes could be playing tricks on me if I’m really seeing these people move slightly every now and then.

“You did well in getting me the virgin girl, Fallacia. Would you like to have a taste of her after I have my fill?” the Sense asks with her multiple mouths.

Looking over at the girl, I see that she’s wrapped up in red veins, which are root-like living tendrils. The girl struggles as the red veins overwhelm her senses with pleasure. She pathetically cries for help along with spurts of laughing here and there as lust takes over her mind. These red veins courses throughout the Sense district and are an attraction and reason to be here for many. Despite how good it may make you feel, I’d rather not lose my mind while experiencing pleasures. The hangover is worse than the hangovers I get from even the most potent drugs and strongest drinks.

“No, thanks. I’d rather enjoy the pleasures that come from my reward instead,” I say.

“Very well then. I can respect that. I wouldn’t want someone’s leftovers and would like to experience the pleasures I want in my own way too. You may have your due reward.”

After snapping her many fingers, the Sense’s slaves present themselves to me with crates of drugs and alcohol on their backs. They follow my command and bring themselves to my house where we have a week-long party filled with orgies, overdosing on drugs, and drinking more than our fair share of the finest wines. This is what I want the rest of my life to be. This is my Heaven. By the end of the week, the slaves who haven’t died as a result of overdosing, drinking, or having violent sex walk out or are carried out of my house.

“Wait,” I say while struggling to stand up and keep the slaves in my house, “The party isn’t over yet. We can have so much more fun together…”

I pass out and am barely able to do anything, so I rest for the day. This is the kind of hangover I expected to have and don’t mind since the short but sweet week that gave me was so good. Later after taking some medication and getting some rest, I head out to one of my coworkers to find more work and am surprised at what I hear.

“All the good fish from the Business district are caught. Everyone of interest was caught within a week. Everything else is small fry, as usual, Fallacia,” my coworker says.

“What? Already?” I say.

“Yes, already. I told you not to get too wrapped up in your reward when the iron was hot.”

“But my reward was everything that I could’ve ever wanted! I had to enjoy every second of it for the week that I had access to all of it.”

“I’ve also told you that’s how the Sense gets you to be lazy and desperate to work for more rewards. I suggest that you take odd jobs and keep an ear out.”

“Wait a second. You gave her more virgins and people of interest, haven’t you?”

“I have and that has rewarded me with enough to last me a month. You could join my party if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not. The last time I was the lifeless plaything of the party and had to spend two weeks in the hospital afterward.”

“That’s because you were a lightweight. Still are in some regards.”

“Tch, whatever. Go enjoy your just rewards. I have my own to earn.”

For the next couple of weeks, I prostitute myself to whoever will accept me for pay and to listen in for possible targets. During this time, I hardly get any enjoyment out of my clients since what they desire to do to me is too weak for me who is used to rougher things and harder drinks. Regardless, I have to feint that I’m enjoying myself to get paid. By the middle of the third week, I quit doing odd jobs and ask the Sense if there’s anyone she desires that I can bring to her.

“My pool of interest is rather shallow at the moment. I appreciate you coming here to ask me, Fallacia. You know if you’re desperate, you can work here in my den of debauchery for two weeks,” the Sense suggests.

When she suggests something, you have to do it, so I do. In contrast to my odds jobs, I’m hardly able to stand what the Sense and her clients do to me, especially since the red veins are involved that overload my senses with feelings of pleasure and happiness. During this time, I see the girl who I previously brought here. She has completely changed from when I last saw her. The innocent look she once had is gone. Now, her face is a mouth and her body has multiple orifices to be used by the clients and is dressed with red veins in a pervasive pseudo-dress. She’s lost herself and is nothing more than a puppet of pleasure just as I am at the moment. Instead of being used and abused for two weeks, I’m used for a month as expected. By the end, I have to rest at my house for half a week to recover. At least I get paid a month’s wage rather than two weeks.

That’s it! I’m not going to be used by anyone anymore. I’m the one who’s going to be on top rather than someone’s play toy. From all the odd jobs I’ve been doing, I can afford the basic necessities for at least two months, which means I have to do more for a while. I concentrate on finding valuable assets for the Sense for the next month during which, my craving for pleasures grows. It doesn’t help when I see people indulging in their own, so I try my best to keep my eyes away from it, ignore the sounds, and not think about it. This is easier said than done as I start to feel withdrawn and sick and have to take medicine to stop my shakes and headaches.

A month passes and I come up with nothing at all. I’ve gone so long without my fix in what makes me feel good and happy that I’ve gone numb. In my mostly quiet house, I consider what I should do, which is dangerous. The Quiet could get to me and make me do something stupid like it does with other people that it influences. Even the sounds of moaning and screaming aren’t enough to stop the silence from beginning to overtake me. My resistance is futile as a stillness takes hold of my mind and calms it and my heart into a calm dreamlike state. Soon after a quick nap, I feel rejuvenated in a way that I haven’t in a while.

In an instant, crazy thoughts begin to fill my head and hit me like a brick wall. Thoughts of no longer indulging in what gives me happiness and taking it away from others are a couple of the thoughts that come to me. The one about leaving my addictions behind me is the most absurd. What’s somehow less absurd to me is the idea of getting rid of the red veins. It’s what most pleasure-addicted people come here for. If I can get rid of the red veins, then more people will have to rely on people like me for their pleasures.

One crazy man’s actions brought valuable prey to this district so why can’t an insane skank like me do the same? I’ll never yearn again for attention or lack of desperate losers looking for their fix of lust. No longer will I have to rely on the Sense to give me what I want and her main source of income will be completely lost. She’ll have nothing left when I burn the red veins that she tends to as if they were her children. My Heaven will be a day-in-and-out reality rather than something I live in on occasion.

First, use the various empty bottles I have to put flammable oil into. Next, I put them into a bag and keep a lighter in a separate pocket of the bag. Wouldn’t want the chance of me setting myself on fire. Lastly, there’s getting to the root of the red veins, which is the easiest. All the veins lead to the main root and get bigger the closer you get. Those who can afford it are given an easy way to access them since the bigger the veins, the more overwhelmed your senses will be. Some have even died from the overdose they got when they got next to the main root. In addition, I’ll have to watch out for the Sense who may be tending to the red veins at the moment. I’ll have to be careful and endure the sensations if I want to make it out of this with my life and mind intact.

Going to where the veins are the largest, I find an orgy of mind-broken slaves, prostitutes, and their customers pleasuring each other and themselves while wrapped in the red veins.  The sight invokes some disgust in me for some reason. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while or because what they’re doing is too extreme even for me. Further in, the red veins cover more of the ground, wall, and ceilings. While avoiding the touch of the veins, I have to step over the dead bodies of those who overdosed too much on pleasure and those whose bodies are overwhelmed by the pleasures they’ve been experiencing.

The red veins become harder and harder to avoid until I have no choice but to step close to them and even walk on them. I do my best to ignore my senses, but it’s almost impossible to do so, especially with all the red veins I’ve been touching and seeing the orgy around me. It gets to a point where I unintentionally touch the veins and then intentionally do so before completely losing my mind and self-control. The thought comes to my mind that I should resist these sensations and silence them, but why should I when this is all that I’ve wanted? My entire life’s goal is to feel nothing but happy and constant ecstasy and I’ve found it here!

I take place in the orgies around me until I’m more than satisfied. When I’m done, the red veins strike my nerves again and make me go in again for me again and again. After about the fifth time, I remember why I’m here, but I still want to indulge in the seemingly endless pleasures around me. At this point, I struggle to even stand in place as I keep having to pull myself back from going back into the orgies. What can I even do at this point? There’s nothing I can do to resist my desires. Maybe…maybe I do need silence.

It's in this moment where I give control over myself to the silence that I begin to regain control of myself weirdly enough. Continuing to do so clears my mind and allows me to reach the main root of the red veins that looks like a beating heart. I then pour out the bottles of oil on the veins and light it up without a second thought. Soon after, the red veins shrivel up, and the structures around me that the veins supported crumble. I do my best to escape but end up under the rubble and knocked out.

When I come to, I think I’m still under the rubble, however, I see that I’m trapped in a small, cramped hole with my arms, legs, and body impaled with spikes. I can hardly move with my knees up to my face and when I make the slightest movement, I feel immense pain. Someone must’ve put me in here after what I did. My answer as to who it could’ve been is answered quickly as the door to the hole is opened and it’s no surprise that’s revealed to be the Sense.

“Hello, Fallacia,” she says as if she ran to get here and has the worst intentions for me in her head as if this isn’t bad enough.

“What is this?! Why am I like in this hole?!” I ask.

“Because you burned all the red veins, my main money maker is gone besides my slaves. That has earned you this particular punishment but also my respect. In a way, you interest me more than anyone else I’ve ever met. No one has ever made it to the heart of the red veins and come out with their sanity intact. Not even me. I want to do things to you beyond your wildest imagination for as long as I live. We’ll become one in the same body and enjoy the joys of pleasure together forever.”

“I know your sick tastes and I refuse to take part in them.”

“You didn’t let me finish. You’ll also have a say in what we do. I’ll even let you have control over our body as long as you let me have my way when I want it. If we come to a disagreement, then we can dispute it in the most tantalizing of ways. Think about it. You’ll be in ecstasy for the rest of your life.”

“My answer is still no. I don’t want to share a body and my pleasures with anyone but myself.”

“Suit yourself then. I’ll keep you here and keep coming back from time to time to ask again. You’ll subside on stale bread and dirty water and be kept alive whether you like it or not. I promise you that one day you’ll break and be mine so we can enjoy the pleasures of life forever and ever. Goodbye for now.”

As soon as the Sense closes the door to my cramped hole, I immediately begin feeling regret. What was I thinking when I chose this kind of existence for who knows how long? It’s the Quiet’s fault I’m like this right now. I know you can hear me think about you. You did this to me and made me do the things I did. It’s deafeningly quiet now, so you might as well explain yourself to me. That’s right. I can hear you now. Tell me why it was worth doing what I did. Tell me more about yourself. Tell me…if there’s any hope for me.

How Evil Dies: Chapter 1 – Influence

Chapter 1 – Influence

I look at the results of my handiwork, the dead bodies of my parents. They had to die so my siblings and I could rise in the company and make the changes we want. Back in the day, they were known for being ruthless, uncompromising, and successful, but something happened and they lost their edge over the years. In their old age, they had mercy on their competitors and gave help to those in need without asking or expecting anything in return. It is said that they were affected by the Quiet, which is an entity said to restrict people’s minds to its will. It’s a mystery as to how anyone can hear it despite how noisy the world is and every moving nature of it that keeps you thinking and busy.

Whatever the case is, I gave my parents the kind of death they wanted. They died around pictures of family and memorable moments. Their machines that helped them move their crippled bodies are stuck in the middle of all these pictures. From their appearance, they died of starvation or thirst, possibly from heart problems, or they could’ve died from defecating themselves and shame because of the mess they made. I sabotaged their machines the last time I was here while they were sleeping and left them here because I’m such a good son. Now, nothing will stop my siblings and me from making the changes we want in the company they’ve left us.

Right now, their bodies are being tested to see if they were poisoned and their machines are looked over to see how they could’ve malfunctioned, but this is all for show and for them to write a sham report for the public. These people are in my pocket and will be rewarded for their share in their part in my ascension to power. I have many plans and grander ideas than my siblings. In time, I’ll be head of the most influential and powerful company in the Complex and rule over every aspect of it. As I look outside the window, I can imagine it now.

All these buildings within a singular building is the Complex, which is the world we live in. The buildings are connected by open areas, hallways, vents, and elevators that can be claustrophobic at times, but it’s efficient. It’s a machine run by those who influence the public the most and those influencers are treated as if they were gods. An influencer is given gifts, appealed to for advice and alliance, has hundreds of thousands, if not millions who work for them, and most of all, is the one that defines what is right and wrong. My goal is to reach that point where everyone listens to what I have to say and doesn’t question if it’s right or wrong. Morality is nothing more than a set of rules that the influencers use to keep their underlings in their cages. One day, I’ll be the master instead of an underling.

My siblings have lesser goals such as being in a comfortable place of power where they don’t have a target on their back while still being respected here in the Business district, spending the rest of their lives in the Sense district, or being able to watch as many blood sports as possible without the possibility of being attacked in the Fighter’s district. None of their goals are as grand as mine and none of them have done as much work to get us to where we are now. Who even has done as much as I have? Who deserves more power and influence than I do?

Looking into the reflection of the glass, I see nothing but a king in it. The mouths on my face, stomach, and hand are thirsty for power and my rightful position, especially since I’m so close to obtaining them.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Capio,” the Board says from behind me.

The Board is a man comprised of three heads, many arms, eyes, and a single gaping mouth in the center where the three heads meet. He is dressed in his usual grey dress shirt and black pants, which is the same kind of outfit I wear except there’s no mouth where his stomach is. This man is my greatest obstacle to my goals besides my siblings since everyone in the Business district answers to him. If he wasn’t with his guards, I would personally kill him with the help of my men, but then again, his skin is stronger than steel so the guns of my workers wouldn’t have much of an impact on him either. Guns are hardly even used nowadays besides by those who don’t have expensive modifications like the Board and I since most people are modified for their jobs and it would take half a magazine to put someone down anyways.

“Thank you for your concern and coming here, but you don’t need to worry about me. My parents taught me never to slow down for anything, not even the loss of loved ones,” I say while turning to him.

“Your siblings and you are the same in that regard. Your parents raised proper children, an honorable legacy for a couple who lost their way at the end of their life.”

“I promise you that I won’t be the same. In fact, let’s get to business right away. I trust that I’ll be seeing you at tonight’s promotional party?”

“Of course. I thought I’d just come here to pay my respects, to you, that is. Not your parents.”

“I’m honored that you went out of your way to do that before the promotional party.”

“I think there might be a misunderstanding. I am paying my respects to your work.”

“Excuse me? What misunderstanding is there?”

“I know how your parents died. I don’t need an investigation to figure it out because I know what you did.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hahaha! You’re following my example and the example of your parents to the letter. Keep it up and you may have a bright future ahead of you. Just remember who is in charge.”

The Board leaves the room with his guards behind him. Once I know he’s far away, I punch a hole in the wall. He knows, but at least he respects my work. I’ll have to try to be less obvious if I want to take his position. Looking up to the lights outside on the ceiling that hangs above the buildings in the Complex, I think of my next plan, put on my poker face, and leave for the party. While on the way, I pass through the busy streets of the Business district. As soon as I reported my parents’ deaths, the news of my promotion came up. Because of that, I have the eyes of many on me.

Those who have many eyes have all of them focused on me while those with many mouths seem to be drooling as if they are trying to intimidate me or are restraining themselves from killing me and taking the power I now inherit. They’ll all have to keep their delusions of being more influential and powerful than me to themselves, especially with their modifications that are nowhere as functionally good or as good-looking as mine. Still, some are power-hungry here and three people decide to attack me head-on. To counter them, I attack by slicing the throat of one of them with the sharp finger teeth on my left hand and using its mouth to eat the person’s face off. I then use my left hand’s finger teeth to stab the next person in the head and then punch their head off with my right hand. The last person throws swing after swing at me with their multiple legs and arms, but I cut at each one until they’re down on their knees.

“Anyone else who wants to stand against me will end up like these worthless maggots!” I say to the observing crowd.

With my stomach mouth, I decapitate the last person and spit their head back into their chest where it is firmly stuck. Looking around, I see that no one else dares raise their hand against me. Not even the law enforcement officers do anything because of my strength, position of power, and right to defend myself. Of course, if I didn’t have the privileges I have now, it’d be a different story. I walk past the crowd and continue on my way.

The fight has actually renewed my strength in a way as I have been proven strong and untouchable through it. Again looking up, I imagine my inevitable future. Above me I see my family’s company advertising their products of clothes, modifications, and jewelry alongside other advertisements from other companies. Soon, they’ll all be showing what I want in the way that I want it. The Board’s face won’t be everywhere and feared by anyone. Instead, it’ll be me who is feared, respected, and looked up to. This future is so close that I can almost taste it.

When I make it to the party, I make myself comfortable at the table set for me, my siblings, and the heads of our company. As the guests come in, I make note of everyone who comes in and their modifications. Eventually, the room is filled with everyone I expect including the Board that sits with my siblings and me. I make small talk with the guests, my family, and the Board until my oldest brother clinks his glass to give a welcoming speech.

“We’re sorry for the late start. It’s with a heavy heart that we have to announce the deaths of several key members of this organization and friends to my parents,” my older brother says.

My brother starts listing off names and with each name said, I feel a sense of pride because I am responsible for all their deaths. I didn’t want any of them getting in my way, so I had them poisoned or killed by their loved ones or assassins from the Fighter’s district before I went to see my dead parents.

“Despite this, we must keep moving forward. The Complex is a world that never sleeps after all and just as it never stops operating, we must never stop to not only keep up but also get ahead of our competitors. For that reason, it has been decided that my siblings and I take assume the roles that our parents raised us for. One of these roles will also be taken up by the Board who has been guiding us and our inspiration for our entire life,” my brother continues.

Turning to my little sister, I ask, “The Board has a role in our company? Since when was this decided?”

“When you were absent,” my sister answers.

“And you were there?”

“Everyone else besides you was.”

“Was anything else decided without my knowing?”

“Other than you staying in your given position, there’s nothing else you need to know.”

“What?!” I say loud enough to stop my brother’s speech. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind us. Continue on.”

“We’ll talk about this after the party.”

“No, we’ll talk about this now! It’s urgent!”

“I’ll explain this to him,” the Board says before switching seats with my sister. “Capio, you must understand that this is for the better of your company. Your parents put in hot water when they strayed from their ways and this is the best way to get it back on track.”

“But why was I the one that was chosen to not receive any kind of promotion?”

“Because you weren’t there. It’s as simple as that. Your siblings came to me, we talked, and this is what happened.”

“This is ridiculous…” I don’t mean to say it aloud but do anyway.

“Think about it in this way then. You don’t want a target on your back. If you moved up in the company, then you would’ve had people watching your every move and waiting for you to slip up, but since you didn’t move up, no one takes note of you, so you can do whatever you want.”

“…you’re right.”

In a way he’s right. He’s definitely making logical excuses and benefits for my situation though I’m not sure if absolutely everyone will not pay attention to me since I’m the only one who hasn’t moved up. The Board then puts his hand on my shoulder before coming closer to whisper to me.

“Take pride in the fact that you’ve done the most to save your family’s company even if it was in a stereotypical way. Good work in getting rid of all those other puppets of your parents as well.”

I have nothing more to say to the Board or my siblings. I don’t even stay for the remainder of the party and just walk out before the prostitutes arrive. Knaves from the Fighter’s district were also supposed to show up and fight for us for our entertainment, but I leave before that happens as well not even wishing to stay and watch it and imagine myself beating my siblings and the Board in the fight. Neither lust nor violence has my interest, I only want influence and power. Now, I’m back to square one with little to no influence on how my family’s company is handled.

I’ve made my way back to my house and am now sitting in my room thinking about what to do. The Board was right in saying that I did the most stereotypical thing possible in killing my parents and their allies. Doing so is pretty much a rite of passage in the Complex unless the parents are strong and respectable. Going after my siblings would be even more of a predictable move and even if I managed to kill them, I’d still have to worry about the Board. The man is a mystery and may as well be a god because of all the power and people he has under his control. No one knows what his real name is or how exactly he became so powerful. It’s only known that he’s older than most people here and everyone who goes against him ends up dead.

As far as I know, there’s no way out of my situation. Many in my company alone are in similar situations and they’ve been in it for years no matter how they try to get out of it. This is idiotic. This is absurd. I’ve trapped myself with no way out because I was too focused on getting the threat in front of me that I failed to think about the possible schemes of my siblings. What to do…what can I do?

At this point, I’m lost without a single thought in my head for a while, which is bad because the Quiet could influence me. To counter it, I could get up and leave my mostly quiet room to go outside and fill my ears with the constant noise of the Complex, but I’m too tired to do move. I’ve never spent this long in relative silence in my life and I frankly care less and less about it as what I assume to be the Quiet calms my heart and mind. Is this the effect of this mysterious entity or my own delusions? Whatever it is, it’s getting me to think more.

What’s the point of me obtaining power and influence if all my work can vanish in an instant? The Board may seem untouchable, but everyone dies and no one’s legacy lasts forever, especially in these times when people are trying to be better than everyone else. I think I should knock everyone down from their thrones. Part of me feels like it’s the right thing to do, whatever that means. If I can’t be in power, then I’m going to make it difficult for everyone else to. I’m going to punish them for every crime and evil thing they’ve done. Sure, it’s ironic that a wicked person such as myself should want some kind of real justice to happen in the Complex where the concept is completely foreign, but I feel that this is my chance to change and make an actual difference.

Huh. So, is this what the Quiet does to a person. It’s no wonder my parents changed in the way that they did. Maybe they were on to something. Maybe I should’ve talked to them about it. Maybe…it was wrong to kill them. Um, there’s no reason to dwell on that now. I have a new grand plan that I want to enact.

Looking over maps of the Complex that show the areas under it, I formulate a route to get to the giant generator room that supplies most of the power for the Business district. There are other generators underground, however, if I manage to destroy this one room, then the influencers of this district will face irreparable damages as they won’t be able to communicate with their devices, use the internet, and most importantly of all access their funds. The main generator powers the banks and with it out, they’ll have to break open the nearly unbreakable doors by hand, which will take a while and leave them all strapped for cash. After looking over it again and considering what I have to do to get into the primary generator, I think about going after the smaller ones first. This is a more realistic goal since they aren’t as well-guarded and are relatively easier to get to.

I calculate that over the course of a minimum of a few years, I’ll be able to completely disrupt the district as a whole. Even though I feel set on going after the smaller generators, I can’t help but feel I should go after the main one first. It’ll definitely be more heavily guarded as the other generators shut down, but that’s just a future problem I’ll have to deal with. Once I collect the necessary explosives from my cache of sabotage tools, I head out and use one of the sewer grates to enter the underside of the Complex. Here, those who are worse than the degenerates above hide along with those who are not as degenerate and are unwilling to deal with the evil on the surface. This place is also a good dumpster to hide bodies and evidence of crimes, which I should know best since I’ve used it as a dumping ground for years.

“Up to no good again, Capio?” a partner of mine, Surripio, says from the dark.

“Yes, I am, and try scaring me in a different way next time,” I say.

Surripio does still unnerve me not only because I can’t guarantee his loyalty to me, but also because I’ve never seen his full body. The only parts I have seen are eyes and mouths on tentacles protruding from the dark and a body comprised of multiple writhing bodies in it.

“Oh, but speaking from the darkness is such a classic that hardly fails me. Tell me, what trouble you are getting into now and can it involve me? I’ve heard about what happened to you.”

“I’m not going after my siblings if that’s what you’re thinking and no I don’t need your help. This is something I feel that I have to do on my own.”

“Aren’t you a grown-up? Well, let me know when you need me. I would really like to have more company.”

I know he would. I just hope that I don’t end up like his victims after doing what I plan. While following the map to one of the first generators, I see that the way ahead is blocked by a wall of trash. Since that way is blocked, I go a different route only to find a large fight taking place that blocks another one of my paths. After which, the next couple of routes I try to take are blocked by either rubble, bodies, trash, shady characters, or fights. Now, it feels like I’m being set up as if someone is intentionally leading me to their desired destination. What’s even stranger is the rubble and cracks in the foundation of the Complex that I see in small parts of the ceiling and walls.

The foundation of the Complex is supposed to be strong and under constant improvement and repair. All this rubble, cracks, and damage I see suggest otherwise. At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised that it was a lie since more lies and exaggerations are said than the blunt truth. Parts of the rubble have tunnels that go through them and because I don’t really have a way forward, I go through them and find myself in a part of the underground where there’s a hole in the ceiling. When I reference the map, I see that I’m directly under the main generator. Isn’t this a golden opportunity?

How did the hole under the generator even form? Judging from the damage, it’s hard to tell. Was it an outside or inside job? It couldn’t be because the foundation fell out from under it, could it? I’m in such disbelief seeing this that I remember hearing the rumor from Surripio that this exact thing happened to the main generator’s floor. The only reason I can think of as to why it isn’t repaired yet is because Surripio and the others down here have been taking whoever tries to repair it.

“Do you believe me now?” Surripio says from behind me in the dark.

“I do,” I say while not trying to sound startled.

“It’s curious to me as to why you’re here. What’s your plan? What’s your purpose for being here? Surely, you’re not here for the dead end and are going up to the main generator.”

“You got me figured out, but my business is not your concern.”

“Ah, but it is. Are you here to destroy the generator? Maybe you are here to sabotage it and direct funds to your own bank? Perhaps you want to make some changes in the system for your benefit and the detriment of another. Whatever the case is, I’ll help you.”

“Help me? Why?”

“Because if you do any of these things or any of these things I haven’t guessed, then people will come to me for help.”

“Oh, so it’s not a favor for all our years of friendship.”

“No one in the world does anything for anyone unless they can benefit from it.”

“Okay, then I accept your help.”

“I wasn’t asking if you’d accept my help. I’ll distract and get rid of the guards for you. Then, you can do whatever it is you wish. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be making some friends.”

What Surripio says about doing things for other people seems wrong to me despite my knowing it to be the truth. I hardly even take note of him as he passes by me in an instant. Is this the influence of the Quiet on me? Has it influenced how I see good and evil? Well, it isn’t the reason why I’m doing what I am because I’m doing this for myself. I will be the one to take all the glory of being the Business district and its gods to its knees and laugh as they suffer. If I can’t rule over them, then no one can.

After climbing up the rubble and making it into the building, I find that it’s eerily quiet as if no one is guarding the generators nor doing routine maintenance on it. In the distance, I can hear the sound of fighting and screaming, which is surely Surripio doing his work. I try my best to ignore the sounds of horror while I plant the explosives in the cooling tanks that keep the generators from overheating. Once I finish, I turn around ready to leave until I’m suddenly confronted by a group of guards led by the Board.

“Why am I not surprised you’re here?” I wonder aloud.

“Because you should know that nothing happens in the Complex without me knowing about it. I’ve had my people monitoring your progress ever since you left the party,” the Board says.

“And? What do I owe the pleasure of your personal appearance?”

“You’ll get a promotion in your company from me if you step away and let the bomb defusal squad disarm the explosives you’ve planted.”

“A promotion? You’re offering me a promotion in my own company?”

“It’s not just that. You’ll rule at my side over your siblings and everyone I rule over. Nothing will happen or be said without you knowing about it. People will fear, listen, and respect you.”

“Why are you giving me such a generous offer?”

“Because you’ve done something that I can respect. I see myself in you and the potential that you have because you’ve gone out of your way and put yourself in danger in such a way that few do, which is the mark of someone with real strength and determination. So, what do you say? You only have one good choice.”

“One good choice? Heh, I don’t think so.”

“Do you have another that I don’t know about? Is there someone you’re working for? What they’re giving you to do this is not as worth it as what am offering.”

“This must be the Quiet’s influence on me, but I don’t have any desire for power at the moment. What I want is a concept foreign to me even now. I want true justice.”

What happens next is a blur as I press the button to detonate the explosives and try my best to escape it. The way I came in is covered by rubble and everything and everyone in the building is in a panic. I don’t know what happens after other than me aimlessly running through the chaos and being knocked unconscious. By the time I wake up, people are digging me out of the rubble and I’m not able to say anything or move because of the pain I’m in and the damage done to my body. My “rescuers” bring me out of the building as I pass out and wake up on and off. My mind is mostly awake for the brief moments that I’m outside and back in the Business district to see that it’s in chaos, a sight that fills me with happiness and peace. Eventually, I’m brought to a hospital room where doctors and the Board is.

“I’m surprised that we were able to find you and even more surprised that you’re still alive,” the Board says. “The Quiet is something else to have moved you to do it. I’ll be sure to keep a closer eye on its followers since I’ve vastly underestimated what it can get people to do. As for you, you’ll be kept alive and hung for your crime and as an example to all who think of doing the same as you or following the Quiet’s advice. You won’t be allowed to die and will hang there until I say so. I hope you enjoy your just reward and take pride that I respect you for being so bold and stupid in the fate you have chosen.”

The doctors then perform some kind of operation on me before I’m taken outside and hung by the neck in the center of the Business district. People throw things at me and yell insults and curses. My neck feels like it’s been crushed, but I’m still able to breathe, and yet, I can’t move or speak still. At this point, I don’t care if this is my fate for the rest of my life. My life was miserable before, so this is hardly any different. If anything, I’m glad that I got to do something meaningful and right for once in my life.

Even in the nosiness, I can hear silence. In it, I hear the Quiet whispering to me. Well, I might as well listen to what it has to say. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Tell me your secrets. Let me know more about you.