Curled into a ball, I press my hands against my temples, hoping for the pain to subside. It’s been a while since my head last hurt like this. I’ve suffered from headaches for as long as I can remember.
When I was younger, I discovered that coffee was the only remedy for my pain. Right now, I’m craving it. I don’t remember exactly how I came to discover that, but I recall that Nila used to drink a lot of coffee. Maybe the smell enticed me to try some while I was in pain and had nothing else to do. Once I started asking him for coffee, he was surprised but laughed it off, saying it was proof that I was a genius.
“Since you can already enjoy such a grown-up drink, it must mean that you’re way ahead of your age!” He chuckled.
At first, I poured sugar in it, but one day, the aftertaste started to disgust me and I could only enjoy it black. Nila knew the risks of coffee but paid a lot of attention to my health. So much so that I almost never fell sick. He taught me almost everything he knew about medicine and IT… He definitely had some strange expectations for me… But I didn’t mind it. I liked learning those things, and the moments I shared with him were happy.
He rarely spoke about my parents or their country, and I rarely asked him anything about that topic. It was always Schwa who thought that she owed me everything, and she spent long nights telling me their story. Even though she didn’t explicitly say it, I understood through her narration that I wasn’t born out of love, and that Schwa embellished the story, probably because she felt responsible for the events.
However, for me, I never envisioned these events as more than that … a story. It’s of the same type as the fairy tales she read to me before going to sleep. I don’t know these people, and I don’t want to know them.
Schwa… Nila… Where are you now? Don’t abandon me like those two people in that story…
When Nila left and never came back, I thought that maybe this was my fate. How I cried that day…
Schwa… I don’t want to tell you because I don’t want to worry you more… But during the time you were in a coma, I cried almost every day…
I may not know what a mother is, but to me, you are worth more than the universe, and I would sell the heavens to stay with you.
Slowly prying my eyes open, I realize I’m sprawled out on the floor. My hands twitch as I attempt to rub my eyes, but they remain unresponsive. Panic surges as I suspect I might be handcuffed. I cautiously start to crawl, but a voice halts my feeble attempts.
“Oi oi oi! Has the brat finally decided to wake up?” The scavenger’s sister jeers, lounging in an ostentatious gaming chair with a slice of pizza dangling from her mouth.
Gazing around, I realize I’m in another room of the apartment, alone with this manic woman. The space resembles a cross between a cluttered warehouse and a vintage game haven, with clothes, retro game consoles, and books strewn haphazardly across the floor.
Her lackadaisical tone grates on my ear as she chews her pizza loudly, her eyes fixed on the meme-laden abysses of her mobile phone. My stubbornness gives way, and I manage to prop myself up, my back leaning weakly against the bed.
“It hurts,” I end up responding.
“I don’t care,” she spits.
“You should care. I met the Banta earlier today. I’m under his protection.” I try.
“I do not give a fuck. The Banta is a bitch.”
That’s unlucky. I didn’t know the Banta had enemies on this island…
An eerie silence punctuates the room, only to be shattered by her foot violently connecting with my face. My head hits the floor once more, searing pain shooting through me.
“I don’t give a fuck,” she hisses, each word carrying a venomous edge. “Piss on the floor if you have to. Your tongue can be my mop.”
So this is what the idiot used to live with… It hurts like hell!
My eyes sting, tears threatening to escape. Ignoring the pain, I muster the strength to sit again, rage building in me. “What do you want from me?”
Her response is a nonchalant shrug, pizza grease smudging her fingers. “Not much. You’re going to stay quiet, behave like a good little puppet while we get in touch with that little bitch you live with, and make her pay a hefty ransom to get you back. Simple.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I say through gritted teeth, my own fury colliding with the pain in my face.
Another kick, another surge of pain. “Don’t order me around, brat.”
Suppressing a wince, I manage to sit once again. “It’s interesting DIANA managed not to murder you,” I chuckle, feeling warmth from my nose—blood’s probably joining the party.
“What the fuck are you saying,” she prepares to kick again, but my next words interrupt her.
“She must really like you.”
“O-of course she likes me. I’m her sister.” She makes a funny expression.
“Yes; if it were me in her place you would already be dead. In fact, I know more than a hundred ways to kill someone I live with.” I fire back, spiking the tension.
Her eyes narrow as she crouches to meet my gaze, her fingers digging into my jaw. “You think that’s impressive? I know one way to kill you and that’s by planting my knife into your skull. It’s plenty enough.”
“You’re tragically one-dimensional. But sure, I can’t really fight back given I’m just a scrawny kid and you’re a full-grown adult. Our difference in strength is ridiculous, but let’s get creative. I could poison that pizza you’re munching on, or maybe I’ll just increase the oxygen in this room until you pass out. A little bit of suffocation and all the blame will go to the bad ventilation. I don’t even need to buy some poison or cultivate weird plants in the garden down there: It turns out that simply leaving some food, like chicken, to rot can create some pretty nice mold that, after being carefully extracted and injected into some ‘normal food,’ would become tasteless and give you explosive diarrhea that would dehydrate you in just a few hours, or if you’re super unlucky, there could be one of those bacteria that ruin your blood flow so bad that your limbs would start rotting and the only solution would be amputation or a slow, painful death. Which one do you like best so far?”
She stares at me for long seconds, scrutinizing my face to find any trace of deception, until she finally asks me. “How old are you?”
“I’m turning 9.”
“What other methods do you know?”
“Well, for instance, it’s really easy to push someone down a staircase, but it’s not that reliable, however, any very hard surface that’s above the ground, like a heater, can be used in a similar fashion, but in a much more controlled environment, leaving the chances of survival…”
I cautiously extend my hands towards the doc’s neck and apply slight pressure. His gas mask muffles a faint moan, soon turning into a piercing scream that tears through the air. Panic seizes me, and I quickly step back, realizing the gravity of what I almost did.
Collapsed on the bed, the doc trembles uncontrollably, arms raised defensively above his head as if shielding himself from an impending blow. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” I stammer, my heart racing, unsure how to proceed.
“Go away, go away!” he shrieks, his voice quivering with fear. “Tell her to go away!”
“I’m sorry. I’m leaving, alright? I’m so sorry,” I blurt, panic driving me out of the room. I bolt from the scene, the lingering discussions about the White Snake still dominating the parking lot’s atmosphere.
Desperate to escape the suffocating tension, I rush out into the pouring rain. Standing amidst the downpour, bitterness surges within me, fuelling a raw scream that pierces the desert city’s quietness.
I know that even though we didn’t send the agent around this place, it may have flown here too since it’s so volatile, but I couldn’t care less.
In this parched land, I unleash my frustration through my voice, letting the rain become the vessel for my pent-up emotions. Even though I’m aware that the White Snake might have made its way here, I couldn’t care less at this moment. With every raindrop that falls, I release the hatred that’s been shrouding my heart.
“Well, well, isn’t that something? You’re gearing up for your next heavy metal concert?”
Emerging from the street’s corner, CHIRO and DARIUS materialize, rifles in hand.
“Why aren’t you wearing a mask?” DARIUS questions me.
“I don’t care,” I retort, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance that they’ve caught me without it.
“Let me guess, not being the centre of attention is driving you nuts? Planning on getting poisoned just to make everyone start caring?” CHIRO chuckles.
"..." I bite my lip, holding back my response. “You’re terrible. I’m really not in the mood for your teasing.”
“But you know, S1, teasing’s best when it stings,” CHIRO jests, hopping around me, though I’m too drained to engage.
“Cut it out, CHIRO,” DARIUS intervenes. “S1, I heard we got the White Snake. Is that true?”
“Yeah, it’s true,” I reply, my frustration growing as the topic follows me everywhere.
“Excellent, that simplifies things for us, CHIRO,” DARIUS nods.
“Absolutely!” CHIRO chimes in.
They walk past me, opting not to enter the parking lot, which surprises me. “Aren’t you guys going to rest?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. “The mission’s over.”
“Oh no, we’ve got a very different mission. Our work isn’t finished yet,” DARIUS explains, with CHIRO playfully hopping onto his back, like a monkey on a tree.
“Ohhh, DARIUS… I’m so worn out. Shouldn’t we take a break?” he sighs.
“No, CHIRO. I told you that once this mission wraps up, you’re free to meet your end.”
“Wow, you’re right! Thanks for the reminder!”
“No problem.”
“So, how do you want to go?”
“Hmm, let’s see … how about…”
Their conversation gets drowned out by the pouring rain, leaving me unable to catch their further exchanges. Soon, they vanish into the mist, leaving me soaked and drained as I trudge back into the parking lot.
A rain of bullets pours into him…
Yet, with an astonishingly powerful kick to the heavy poker table, it tips over and acts as a shield, sparing the Japanese guy from certain death.
Smoke billows through the casino, and panic starts to take hold as the shooters realize their target is still alive.
Amid the chaos, I half-expect UMA to recognize my betrayal and turn against me, but instead, he looks at me with a radiant smile.
“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll keep us safe from this peril,” he declares confidently.
“W-what?” I stammer, utterly bewildered.
Is this guy even more deranged than I thought?
Bounding onto the overturned table, he proudly announces, “Ladies and gentlemen from all corners of the world, our encounter might have been brief, but it was deeply meaningful. Hence, let it be known that I shall deliver retribution upon those miserable souls who dared to stand between the sacred love shared by my boyfriend and me. With utmost care, I shall guide you to the realm beyond. There, may you seek redemption for your deeds while you await your next embodiment.”
As UMA speaks, his words morph from bizarre to utterly incomprehensible, leaving me to wonder if I’m caught in some surreal nightmare.
“Ptn d’merde, j’comprend r de c’qu’il bite!”
“TU sei quello che nessuno capisce, Rital!”
Amidst the impending chaos that’s engulfing his gang members, Francesco, whose face and arms bear a tapestry of scars, burns, and bandages wrapped around his neck, issues the order for another volley of bullets to be aimed at UMA.
However, UMA’s reaction is far from expected. With a maniacal laugh, he draws a snow-white katana, its blade bearing the kanji for ‘love,’ and as if time itself is bending to his will, he masterfully slices through each bullet that ventures within his grasp.
I’m left utterly dumbfounded, watching this spectacle that defies all human logic. UMA’s mad laughter echoes around me as he leaps with a dancer’s grace, placing himself right in front of me, poised to shield me from any stray bullets.
In a swift move, he vaults over the table, kicking up a storm of fallen cards to create a volatile shield, making himself a moving target that’s nearly impossible to hit. In the span of a heartbeat, he’s beside the nearest mafioso, his blade dancing a deadly waltz that severs knuckle tendons before claiming the man’s neck.
With a flourish, he plunges his sword into the severed head, triumphantly proclaiming, “ONE DOWN, MY LOVE! JUST A LITTLE BIT OF PATIENCE, AND I’LL TURN THIS FLOOR INTO A CANVAS OF THEIR BLOOD!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
I scramble to take cover behind the table, my mind racing for a plan to halt UMA before he slaughters the very people I need to eliminate his comrades!
BET
