| "Losing Grip" | ||
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A Disused London Warehouse June 3, 2008, 1620 hours Lima Time Sitting on the chair he checked the instrument readouts, making sure that everything was functioning correctly. The needles in the various dials all showed readings within acceptable limits. Next he put on the headphones and keyed in the appropriate settings. Listening attentively he could hear Odds talking to himself; barely a whisper but still discernable. Odds was talking about death� deaths he had caused. Nikolai chuckled quietly to himself, listening to his enemy talk about how he had dispatched various people, a big team of men breaking down the door and beating the individual, then letting Odds finish him off. You fuck, he told Odds silently, you get your strength from others; on your own you're nothing. He laughed again. He had taken out a number of people on this little personal mission of his, and not once did he rely on others to help him. He had killed men using his own skills and strength. That was the difference between them, wasn't it? No, it was more than that. Odds did not follow the same code that he did, a code of honour. Instead he made the rules up as he went along, thirsty for power and ignorant of those he quashed in his pursuit for it. Well, those times were now over. He had fucked with the wrong person, not realising that that person had come back as a force so powerful that escape was not possible. What was it Odds had said, back when things had kicked off? That was it: you haven't got the balls to hit me. Well, Odds would soon find out that he did indeed have the balls, and they were big brass ones. "Oh Daniel," he whispered into the microphone. On the monitor he saw Odds' head turn slightly, not sure where the sound was coming from. The water inside the container didn't even slosh. "Daniel, do you know why you are here?" "Who are you?" Odds asked, his voice weak and confused. "You know who I am," he responded. Odds said his name. "You know who I am," he repeated. "My conscience?" "You know who I am," Nikolai repeated. "What the fuck do you want from me?" Odds screamed. The noise reverberated inside the container, a horrifying noise. "You know the answer." "I don't! I fucking don't!" Odds exclaimed, and then his voice broke. "Its Her isn't it." "Who?" "I know who," Odds replied, apparently thinking it was his conscience he was conversing with. "She had to die though. I couldn't let her live, not after she betrayed me. She had to die. She had to." "No, she didn't. She did to you what you did to someone else, so why should she die and we live?" Nikolai asked, talking as if he were Odds' conscience. Strange, he thought, I never knew he had one. "That was different. He deserved what he got, thinking he could outdo us! All them years watching him push us further down. Well, we got the last laugh. We won in the end." "Did we?" Nikolai/Conscience asked. "Was he really that much of a threat to us that we had to destroy him like that? Was it all really worth it? I mean, to many people we just ended up looking like a bitter, jealous man." "No, that's not true! They feared us! We controlled them. They saw what we could do, they saw we were in charge and there was nothing they could do about it," he said, his voice regaining conviction despite the obvious lies. Nikolai sighed, then got back into character. "We fooled them for a while but they soon saw us for who we are. They saw they had nothing to fear and they didn't. They despised us." "NO!" Odds shouted. "No!" "Yes, its true. You hid me in your mind for so long so you could deny the truth! Well, I'm back now. No more suppressing, no my denying, no more lying. It all comes to light now." Shit, he thought, I need to be careful, don't want to lose my grip on the situation. Odds let out a sob, apparently not as confident in his mind as he thought he was. "What if I don't lie any more? What will happen to me then?" Odds asked. "You may be saved," Nikolai replied, adjusting a knob on his display. This in turn increased the temperature of the water in the tank gradually. "Otherwise you will burn in hell." Another sob. Odds was starting to feel the heat, quite literally. "I don't want to die. I don't want to go to hell." "It is too late for that." "Hello Daniel." "You! It's You." "Yes, it is me. Well, not exactly. I've changed since you last knew me; I'm now a different person. In fact, you would not believe what I am now. I'll tell you one thing though: I am not the man with whom to fuck. But you did fuck with me, so now I'm going to have my sweet revenge." He chuckled. "So tell me, did you enjoy getting one up on me? Hmmm? Did it make you feel big? See, what you didn't realize was back then was that you did the wrong thing to the wrong person. You thought I wouldn't do anything, that I `didn't have the balls'. Well, that was your mistake. I never forgot, and now I'm back for retribution. See, that is the great thing about the new me; I can bide my time when the need arises, waiting for the right time to strike. That time is now. It will be a lot less painful if you tell me what I need to know." "What do you want from me!?" Daniel cried. Nikolai's response was simple: "The truth." Two hours later he had three pages of valuable notes and one tortured individual. He now had to decide what to do. He was losing grip, he could sense it. He had taken pleasure from the pain inflicted on Odds. Well, maybe not pleasure, but satisfaction. As far as he was concerned Daniel Odds had forfeited his right to live a long time ago. Return |
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