That evening, Andrei called me back to his office.
"So...
you want payment, don't you? ... Well, this is a fair payment for your
work," he said as he handed me a check, with more zeros than I was
expecting. He didn't gave me a chance to protest. "But, you didn't came
here for vile money, did you? You want a reminder. So you can't possibly
forget why you're here."
I hesitated. "...Yeah."
"Follow me, then."
He got up and unlocked the side door, signing me to follow him as he entered through it.
My
heart sank as I saw the room. It was pretty much like the detention area
cells, fully white and well illuminated, except this one was all splattered with what I hoped would be red paint. In the center, a
metallic stretcher, full of ropes and leather straps hanging from the side bars.
He looked at me, clearly amused. "Now, don't you tell me you're scared of this, are you?"
I couldn't answer. My mind started racing. A safe room was not the safest place to be locked in with someone like Andrei. Did he want me too?
He
seemed to read my mind. "Calm down, Sandy. I just don't want to make a
mess of my office, the stupid janitor throws a tantrum every single
time, and ... I can't really find a substitute, you know."
He
drew one of those folding chairs from a corner, and signaled me to sit
on it. "You see, Doc came up with this." He pointed to the bucket placed
on top of the stretcher. "It's... like a tattoo, except much faster.
Pigment is just tattoo ink, actually. But it also has an acid - designed
to dissolve the outer layer of skin, so ink can get in."
I
got up and looked into it. It was a deep red. Andrei pat my shoulder.
"After the other day, I thought you would like it. Won't come off unless...
laser removal, you know."
I stared at the crimson liquid, memories of the other day flying through my mind.
"Though
I must warn you - it hurts like a bitch. But pain goes away, and... the
reminder will last forever - or at least as long as you want. Red is
quite easy to remove, just in case you didn't knew."
I
wasn't afraid of pain. I kept my eyes locked on the bloody surface, my mind
full of memories - these ones more recent. Yesterday. The man - the
girl. Their screams piercing my ears, their blood soaking everything,
my own madman's joy and my shattered soul. I couldn't possibly go back.
And so, I dipped my hands in the bucket, almost to the elbow.
It burned. Badly. I let out a silent scream - too used to hide any reaction to pain.
Andrei held my hands submerged. "Just a bit longer, let it act. Pain won't last long, Sandy. Trust me."
Five
minutes later, I was in tears. He finally let me get my hands out,
sprayed them with some chemical - to neutralize the acid, and proceeded
to bandage them, gentle as a feather.
"You're now one of us, Sandy. Now, the contract. Legal stuff, you know."
"Wait. Before that. I want the mark too."
He
glanced at me in surprise. "You don't have to, Sandy. You already have
your reminder, and I know I can trust you. There's no reason for a mark."
"I want it anyway."
He sighed at me. "Okay. Let me help you remove that shirt - you'll have to be careful with your hands for a few days..."
"No Boss. Not in my chest."
Andrei stared at me as if I was a nutcase. "You're mad, Sandy. You don't have to do this, boy."
"I wouldn't be here if I was sane, would I? I've made up my mind. I want it. I want to not forget, ever."
He
rolled his eyes. "Okay. As you wish." He grinned, proud of me, as he
drew a knife - always out of nowhere - and told me to lay in the
stretcher. He then tied my hands, tight enough so I couldn't free myself. The rope burned into the skinned flesh, but I ignored the pain.
He grinned again as he leaned over me,
immobilizing my head with one hand, and proceeded to carve an x on my
cheek. I took in the pain, and gleefully let it overwhelm me - there was
no way out now.
