Post by J.O.N ((Dragonwing)) on Jan 12, 2013 10:59:55 GMT -5
Entry One
Those resigned, blue eyes stared right up at Mason; eyes that he hated with a passion. What he would give to shove a knife in each socket, to once and for all be done with those smiling, laughing eyes. Now, though, they were the eyes of a tired, old man who wanted nothing more than to rest and be rid of the crimes committed by his own hands.
Mason could stick him with a knife. He could do anything. Drown the man in a vat of boiling acid. Sever each limb from his body; with a chainsaw, or perhaps take his sweet time with a kitchen knife. Throw him into a pit of venomous snakes.
Or he could simply pull the trigger. He had the barrel of the gun set right against that ugly head, and with one twitch of his finger, that head would pop like a melon.
Years of torture and fury and struggle. Revenge, at long last, would be Mason’s. All he needed was a twitch.
"What's wrong, kid?" The old man said with the deepest sigh of content. The only expression on his face was the tiniest sly smile. It was like a dagger through the heart to witness that smile. It was the kind of smile that a poker player carried when he had all the cards. Like a small ripple on a pond. Mason couldn't never tell how deep the waters were with this man. Shallow and empty? Deep and maddening?
"Shut up." Mason quipped softly. The growl in his voice was gone after the fire-fight.
The old man just stared back with those blue eyes. He had Mason read like a dime store novel.
"A long time ago, I went to visit your family's graves," He paused at the weight of Mason's arm pressing the .38 Special into his forehead. "Those were some very nice markers. You must have sold everything to buy those. Even the house? Yes. Had to have sold the house for marble like that. I was surprised a kid like you had the balls to pull something like that off. Kids are... clingy, you know?"
The creases in Mason's face deepened with every word spoken to him. How he just wanted to end it. Just end it right now. Make this bastard pay for all the lives he'd taken or left in ruin.
"Not gonna talk?" The old man asked with some childish whimsy in his voice. Like it was all just a joke. "Okay. I'll talk. I got plenty to say."
Mason just wanted to scream and rage. Tell him to die and go to hell! Why...?
"Your old man was an idealist. Not sure how I've felt about men like that. You got to admire the resolve to stick with it. Even when a man like me comes knocking at the door. But still... I'm not sure if it's stupidity or insanity. Ignorance is bliss maybe? Nah. He knew what was coming. He knew the score. Your old man always did. But to hold his ground like that... had to be some kind of crazy he was packing."
Mason could feel the trigger against his finger. So close. Just squeeze. He was trying so very hard to will himself into action.
"Your mother, on the other hand, wore a nice placid veil. Like one of the Da Vinci statues. But as soon as I pull a blade out and start cutting, she just screams! And screams! And screams some more! I hate going for the throat first, but I just wanted her to stop screaming for ten seconds so I could at least enjoy it."
"Fuck... you..." Mason spit through clenched teeth and locked tight eyelids.
The old man's smile disappeared and he raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Now look. I thought this was going to be a quick thing. And even if it wasn't, I was hoping for at least a decent conversation on the way out. I'm not getting either. Is this a joke?"
"Fuckin- I tore through all your men to get here! They're dead! They're all dead!"
"And?"
Mason was silent. Stunned more like it. "And?" he repeated.
"And?" The old man retorted in the same baritone.
"And what?!"
"And they were your men too."
Mason's body felt like every muscle suddenly tightened into his bones.
"Think about it," the old man chuckled. "You really think they'd all line up in front of your gun like that if they weren't under your command? If they didn't respect you? Not that they actively committed suicide or anything. They shot back but... no heart in it. Oh! Which reminds me... the bait and switch thing you've pulled? It's pretty old hat. Hell, kid, I was pulling those rackets when I was a third your age. Saw this coming a mile away. Can't con the con-man. as they say."
"They weren't my men! I just pretended to get close to you!"
"Jeez boy! I've always admired your ambition, but you just can't figure out an original idea when you see it."
"Fucker!"
"And those men did respect you. You earned it. Don't say you didn't! You had them believing in you. That's better then any amount of money I could have thrown at them. I'm surprised none of them just didn't up and switch sides."
Mason's teeth were about ready to give from the pressure he was exerting on them. "I didn't give them the chance."
"Oh... well there you go. That answers something at least."
"God damn it! I have a gun to your head, you fuck! I'm gonna blow every last brain cell left in your skull out!"
"I'd have picked a .357 or a .44 mag for that sort of surgery."
"Shut the fuck up! How?! How can you be so peaceful right now? How?!"
"Because," the old man said as his hand slipped over the pistol. His fingers slipped around the hammer and pulled it back with an authoritative click. "of the zoo."
Even with the .38's trigger pull now down to the accident of a heartbeat, Mason still couldn't find it in him to fire.
"A long time ago, my father took me to the zoo. Now, he was a hard son-of-a-bitch. But, he knew a good lesson when he saw it. He took me to the cages where those chimpanzee monkeys were. Those apes had collars with chains attached to them. He said "Boy now look at them monkeys. Look 'em in the eyes. See how they like people's eyes? But they ain't! Cuz when a man gets collared, he struggles and struggles. Even when he just sits there, you can see the rebellion in his eyes. But a monkey? A monkey is a damn animal. He don't know no better. He just accepts it. Same goes with dying. Man struggles against it. Animals just accept it." And that, kid, is why I'm accepting it," The old man's smile broadened. "I lost my humanity a long time ago."
"You... did that to -me-." Mason whimpered.
"No kid. You did that to yourself. You made the choice. You could have gone on and made something of yourself. But instead you went down the road of revenge. I just gave you the means. But, you made the choice that I was never given. So, in a way, you still have some sliver of man in you, right?"
Mason hands clenched into fists. His mind raced at every thought, clouded in rage and steeped in sadness.
"So that's why I'm leaving everything to you when you pull that trigger," the old man gloated. "You get the whole organization. Every last shred. It'll run better in your hands then mine. So go on. End it. I'm ready."
The old man closed his eyes, waiting for that last flash and then darkness.
His head suddenly felt lighter. Something was wrong. The barrel wasn't on him anymore.
"You're right," Mason growled with a seemingly renewed anger. "I do have -one- sliver of humanity left."
The old man opened his eyes to catch the last second of Mason putting the gun to his own head.
BANG!
