Dreams (Epilogue) - Sasha

I hopped into the shower as soon as we got home. The cool water felt good against my skin. I let it wash the blood on its own, I was in no hurry. I closed my eyes and let it soak me to the bone. It had been a weird day. I felt dead inside, but also full of life. The evening test had been... different. I had been different. I still had my doubts, but I had stepped over them -- probably for the first time. Probably for the first time it hadn't been a show-off or a trance.

It kinda hurt to realize that. To realize that Andrei was right, that he'd always been. That it was all my choice. Of course, that was the only reason why he had given me a choice, don't think I'm such an idiot to not see that.

I was still mind-tripping when he opened the door to the bathroom. "You're going to get a cold, Sandy. You're already squeaky clean, boy. Say, why don't you come already?"

He handed me a bathrobe as I stepped out of the shower, and helped me put it on, hugging me from the back in the process. I just stood there, feeling. Listening to his soft breath, feeling its warmth against my neck, and drowning in his arms. I lost track of time. It felt like forever, and yet, such forever didn't feel nearly long enough.

He finally let go and headed back to the big room, signing at me to follow him.

He lay down on the huge bed with a tired sigh -- it had been a long day, indeed. He patted the other side of the bed. "Come on. Come here."

I couldn't help smiling. "You know that's cheating," I said as I lay down on the bed too, my eyes glued to his.

"Is it?" He smiled too, and took my hand. "I wanted to tell you I'm really proud of what you did today, Sandy. Don't you think I didn't notice."

I sighed, still smiling, now more sadly. "Well, I... think you're right. I don't want to leave."

He smirked, playfully. "Don't you lie to yourself. It's not that. You like it. Don't you?"

I closed my eyes for a moment. Of course he was right -- he always is. But admitting it wasn't that easy. I opened my eyes again, only to find his. And I knew I had to. "...Yeah."

He was beaming. Almost literally. "That's my boy."

I smiled back at him.

"Sandy, I've been thinking... you have gone through a lot -- we have gone through a lot. Yet you still cling to the past. I think it's about time you let go and move on."

"What... what exactly do you mean." The guys? ... But... I had proven a handful of times that I was over them... right?

"I mean that stupid nickname. I get it, you too find it funny, but... you know, it's all about past memories. It's time you let go of it all. Say, would you mind if I called you Sasha?"

My brain went from 'what', to 'oh, no', to bursting into laughter. "No, I won't. You see, for a moment I thought you were gonna say Alex, or something. I hate that one, reminds me of... you know, the special program. But as long as it's not that, I don't really care."

He hugged me. "I just wanted to be sure. Sasha."

Dreams (5) - The test

Andrei stopped a moment before opening the door to the safe room. "Sandy, this is a test. Your goal is to send a message. Keep in mind this is not official stuff, if you follow my meaning." Meaning, it was a job for the mob, which was another way to say there were no red lines. "Let go, boy. Let me see what you're made of."

I sighed. "Okay. But, may I ask, what has the target done?"

He put on that creepy grin of his. "Does it matter? Sandy, your job is to send a message -- it's not to ask questions nor to make decisions."

I swear he did it on purpose. I'm completely sure he had a good reason for it all -- no matter how twisted, he did have principles. But in the end, it didn't matter. I took a deep breath before replying. I wasn't going to fail him. "Gotcha. Open it already."

He patted my shoulder. "That's my boy."

I couldn't help smiling. "I'm not a boy anymore, don't you think?"

He tried hard to not burst into laughter. "Let's see."

I smiled at the joke as he unlocked the door and we got in.

The room was in semi-darkness, only lightened by a soft spotlight in the center. Trying to hide in a corner was a young man, maybe a few years older than me, curled in a ball, his sobs barely audible even in the dead silence of the fully sound-proofed room. An assortment of lockers and cabinets lined one of the walls.

I took a deep breath. This was it. I had to. No buts. No matter how heartbreaking it could get. I grabbed a sturdy wooden folding chair from a corner and opened it right under the spotlight. Then I turned to the man. "Sit here."

"I haven't done anything, I swear... please..."

I pointed at Andrei with my head. "Tell him, I'm just following orders here."

He looked at me, at Andrei, without really seeing anything.

"Grab him, Sandy. There's no need to be nice."

I walked to the man and crouched in front of him. "Hey. I know you're scared. But don't make this harder for yourself, man. It's gonna be hell anyway, but keep in mind it can always get worse."

He was already broken -- probably from the shock of having been caught. I grabbed his hands and got him on his feet, and then gently guided him to the chair, where he sat, still sobbing softly. "Please..."

Andrei handed me his ID card. "For the cabinets' locks. Search around. See if you can surprise me."

No, I couldn't. Not in a literal sense, anyway. But a 'good' decision could be a surprise, so I strived for that. I opened the first locker. Power tools. Shit. My heart skipped a beat, fully realizing what was about to happen, but I ignored it all and focused on the task at hand. My eyes stopped on a nail gun. Was that surprising enough? ... Well, it would have to do. I took it and closed the door.

Andrei was beaming when he saw it. "Not bad, Sandy. Now let me see what you can do with it. Do you need help?"

I pointed at the man. "I don't think he'll put up much of a fight."

"Adrenaline can give you some nasty surprises, boy," Andrei said as he sat on the guy's lap, grabbing his arms, immobilizing him.

I knelt by the man's side, trying to get a good angle. The answer to the unasked question was obvious. Use the nails as restraints. I placed the nail gun against his wrist.

"Wait, Sandy. You don't want him to get free. Use two nails at different angles. So he can't get out no matter how much he pulls."

I adjusted the angle for the first nail as the man started to mumble. "Oh, god, please... please... no no no no...."

Tchak.

The first nail sent him wailing, my ears ringing for a good while. Andrei wasn't happy about it either. "Damn, another scream like that and we'll be deaf before this is over. Make him shut up."

I glanced at him. Shit. Okay. Okay, I got this. I lightly pressed the nail gun against the man's throat -- right against the larynx. That would shut him up.

Andrei stopped me again. "Wait! ... Test it somewhere else, you don't want to discover that it can easily shot through bone, do you?" ... Meaning, it would severely damage the spine and that would be it.

And no, that wasn't the idea. Andrei held the man's mouth shut as I tested it on his arm -- straight into the bone. It held -- judging by the head's height, it had barely penetrated the bone. Okay. Green light. I then held his head straight as I drove a nail into his throat, before finishing the restraining part -- both wrists and ankles.

He still tried to scream, but the pain from the nail soon made him think twice about it. Plus, it being right through his vocal chords meant only guttural growls could come out of his throat anymore.

Andrei was beaming. "Now, I'm wondering what else can you do with that." He finally got up and went back to leaning on the wall.

I didn't say anything -- didn't know what to say at that. I just looked at the man. He was now silently crying -- maybe trying to make a sound, but it wouldn't come.

Andrei interrupted my train of thought. "Wait." He handed me a knife. "Cut off his clothes, I don't want you miscalculating a shot and hitting an artery." His eyes said more. Don't play nice.

I sighed as I took the knife. He was right, of course, But that didn't make it any easier. I quickly tore through the fabric. Don't play nice meant not caring if I got a tad too close to the skin, so the target got a couple shallow cuts in the process. Oh, well. It only made him cry harder, a weird sound sometimes emerging from his throat.

Again I took the nail gun. Yeah, the exposed skin made it much safer -- meaning only that I wouldn't hit any major blood vessel. I took a deep breath. Today was not a day to complain or even to think. To hell with everything. I'm sorry, man, but I gotta follow orders. Except for once, I didn't say it out loud. I shot a few nails into his thighs -- right into the bone. Better that than going too deep.

Yet Andrei wanted more. "His knees, Sandy."

Sigh. Okay. I drove a couple nails into each knee, right into the articulation. Shit. I knew well he wouldn't ever walk again. And I kinda had figured out that he was going to live through this at the end of the day -- which made it all the more heartbreaking. But I wouldn't fail Andrei.

I left the gun back in its place, thinking about what to do next. There were too many dangerous tools in that locker, and I knew I shouldn't take unnecessary risks, so I closed it, ready to search the others. And then Andrei handed me a nicely folded plastic bag.

I hesitated for a split second before taking it, more from the surprise than from anything else.

"You know what to do, Sandy."

Yes. Yes I knew. I circled around the man to look at him, forcing a smile on my lips. "Hey man. Look, I'd say I'm sorry, but... you know, I'd be lying." ... No, I wouldn't, but the truth didn't matter at all.

He redoubled his sobbing efforts -- it came out as a soft growl.

I unfolded the bag and put it over his head. He tried to resist, but the pain from the nail restraints soon made him stop. I twisted the rim around his neck -- just tight enough to leave it airtight. This one was all about timing. You don't want them to faint, just to feel like they will. It's a pretty safe thing to do -- but not a nice feeling at all.

I waited there 'till he started thrashing, the lack of air making him forget the pain from the naily restraints. I was going to take the bag out, but yet again Andrei stopped me. "Wait. Feel his pulse. Wait until it spikes."

Shit. "That's... essentially shock." I searched for the man's pulse as I looked at Andrei -- I was quite uneasy with this. Lack of oxygen is a dangerous thing, and I didn't think brain damage was in the script, anyway.

He grinned at me. "My point exactly. Don't worry, worst case he faints, you take it off, and that's it."

The target's heart was beating steadily faster and harder, to a point I started to worry he'd had a heart attack. I tore the bag off his head.

The man gasped for air, pain from the nailed throat obvious in his teary eyes. He tried to mumble something, but only managed to make an unintelligible growly whisper.

Andrei was beaming, his eyes glistening in the semi-darkness with pure madness and cruelty. "Again."

I took another breath as again I put the bag over the man's head. He soon started thrashing around, even harder than the first time. I looked at Andrei the whole time. He had that grin of his, that made me realize he didn't care about the target at all -- this was about me. We stared at each other for what felt like forever. The man's heart rate going wild in the meantime.

Andrei never said anything, but I just knew, I had to take the extra step. Let the target faint. And so I did. Looking at Andrei the whole time. Drowning in a sea of madness.

"Take it off." He finally said.

I had lost track of time -- the target may as well have been dead already. Still, I tore it off.

"Wake him. This isn't over."

I got in front of the man, leaning over him so my eyes were level to his. I softly pet his cheek. "Hey. Wake up."

He opened his eyes, confused for a second 'till his sight focused on me, and then he panicked, hard. He again tried to say something, but the only thing that could be heard was a pitiful groan. It was heartbreaking to see. But I couldn't let that get to me.

I looked at Andrei, asking in silence for more instructions.

He handed me a cauterizing pen and pointed at him. "Our man here is a filthy liar. I want him to never forget that I'm always listening."

The man growled, probably trying to deny it all. You idiot, can't you see it doesn't matter? Can't you see this isn't even about you?

I looked at Andrei, awaiting further instructions. I had a good clue on what was he after, but I'd rather have actual explicit confirmation.

He looked at me, amused. "Do I have to spell everything out? Brand him. Where -- up to you."

Oh, well. Such is life. I took the pen and plugged it in. The tip turned bright red in seconds. I held the man's head forward as I branded his back, shoulder to shoulder. 'LIAR'. He kept trying to scream the whole time, but only managed to make a soft growl. It was almost cute.

"And now, I want everybody to know who did this. You know how."

Yes, I knew how. The mark --this time a brand-- on his cheek to make it a public statement of sorts.

Dreams (4) - Let go

We got back into the car. I was uneasy -- perhaps from fully realizing everything that went on below the already ugly surface. The woman's reaction had left me cold -- I don't know if she was aware that the game is always rigged, but... even then, unless you really trust Andrei, you can only know he'll get the result he wants -- but not which result it is. And, can you ever trust him?

The car was warm from sitting in the sunlight, and so we both took off our jackets. I realized what a mess I was -- the jacket partly covered the blood-stained shirt, but once gone... shit. I looked around, distracted. If some cops were to see us... well, let's hope not.

Andrei shattered the silence. "Are you okay, Sandy?"

I sighed. "I'm fine." No, I wasn't. I was still thinking of the woman -- of her reaction. How she hadn't tried to fight, or anything, just accepted her fate. It was heartbreaking.

He patted his thigh. "No, you're not. Come here. Come sit with me."

"That's cheating."

"So what. Come here, I know you want to."

I did. The wheel dug into my ribs, but I ignored it, focusing on feeling his warmth. I leaned against the door and looked at him like an idiot. He was in the shadow, but the bright day somehow shone into his eyes -- it was like looking up at the sky, with the sun shining brightly, blinding you, yet you couldn't possibly tear your eyes away from it.

He let his hand rest on top of mine. "Tell me. Why do you care so much, Sandy."

I wanted to close my eyes, forget his and tell him he would never understand. But I didn't find the words, nor the courage to look away. "I don't know."

"Let go, Sandy. You're here because you want. But you have to let go of all that nonsense, realize that you like all this."

I sighed, finally closing my eyes. I felt dizzy. I leaned on him, kinda letting go -- at least of the part of me that screamed at me to run away. No, I couldn't. Yet I also couldn't give up. A man was dead for being an idiot -- but that wasn't the worse. That woman was probably living her dream -- except it was a nightmare. How many more? How about myself? I had been telling myself that this was a dream -- but aren't nightmares dreams too?

I was in a sort of a trance, not really realizing what I was doing -- I had taken out a knife and was softly pressing it against my wrist. I froze when his hand grabbed mine -- gently, caring. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.

"Don't do that." He rolled up his sleeve, offering his forearm. "Here. I'm here for you. Let me help."

I couldn't. I mean, I knew well it was nothing. Just a silent scream, a flash of light in the darkness of my mind. A glass of water in an endless desert -- it wouldn't make a difference. But I couldn't hurt him. I stared at his wrist, his other hand holding mine.

"You need to cut something, here I am." His voice was soft, friendly. Nothing eerie about it. Yet it paralyzed me.

No, I can't, I thought. "Why." I managed to say, a whisper barely audible in the noise of the city.

He smiled, warmth filling his eyes. "You know why. I want to help. I want you to realize what you're doing." He gently moved my hand 'till the edge was right on his forearm. "Don't worry about me, Sandy. We both know this is nothing."

I couldn't. But he wouldn't have it, so he firmly guided my hand -- the sharp blade slicing deep into his flesh, blood soon rushing to answer the call. He'd gone deep, slicing a couple major arteries, so he was bleeding quite a lot. I tried to grab it and try to slow down the blood rushing out. He stopped me. "Don't."

"It's bleeding badly, Andrei, we gotta--"

"Let go, Sandy. I'll be fine, trust me. Just look at it."

I stared at it. It was dizzying but also mesmerizing. Blood pouring out, painting everything in red. I couldn't help running my hand through it -- feeling its warmth, it's coppery smell.

He pushed me further. "How does it feel."

I managed to close my eyes for a second. "It's not the same. It's not enough." I said, softly clutching to his bloody hand, to my own insanity.

"You want me to help?" He took the knife and further rolled up my sleeve, making sure it was held in place, his other hand holding mine.

"Yes. Do it."

Of course he had to take the slow route. The knife dug into my flesh, slicing it open -- I had to clench my teeth, it hurt a lot but I wasn't going to make a sound. My eyes glued on my forearm the whole time, the sight of so much blood and the heat made me dizzy -- more than I already was.

The knife fell with a muted thud. I was frozen, I couldn't tear my eyes from his. I couldn't say anything.

So he did. "Better?"

"I don't know. I... it hurts. It's bleeding a lot. I..."

"You'll be fine, don't worry. Just feel it. Isn't that what you wanted? Pain? To get hurt?"

Shit, he was good with words. I nodded.

"Let go, Sandy. Feel it. Take in the pain and realize that it's not about that -- it's about the blood, isn't it?"

Yeah. Shit.

"You are what you are, boy. Let go of the nonsense." He softly brushed my cheek with his bloody hand. "Feel it."

Oh, did I feel it. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander as he kept petting me, softly, lovingly. Painting everything in red. The warm blood soon getting cool, leaving that wet feeling all over. Mi mind dizzy, not only 'cause the trance but 'cause my own blood loss. It wasn't that much, but enough to be noticeable.

"Feel it, Sandy. Look at yourself. Let go. Let go of everything. You like this. You could go away but you won't."

"I can't," I mumbled.

"You can -- you don't want to. Yet you keep holding to your nonsense. Let go. Give up your soul, it has no place in this hell, Sandy." There was no creepy grin, no sign of the Void in his eyes, only a friendly smile. He was sincerely trying to help.

I couldn't think anymore, my mind lost in the middle of a gleaming sea. "Are you the devil?"

He didn't try to hide a smirk. "Are you afraid of going to hell?" He paused, waiting for a reaction to his joke. "You know it's all nonsense, Sandy. We're already in hell. Let go."

I hugged him, trying to drown in his chest, his heartbeat a raging, distant storm. He was right. I had to let go. I had to give up. I had chosen this, and there was no denying that. I could go, I knew I could -- technically. As in, he'd let me. But I couldn't. I couldn't leave him. Even if he was the devil himself.

"Let go, Sandy. Look at me."

I shifted back to meet his eyes again. And I dived into them. "Take me," I whispered.

"Give up your soul. Give up on yourself. Let go."

"Take me."

"Say it. Your soul."

I took a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes just to meet his again an instant later -- and drown in them. "Take my soul. Take everything. Don't let me go."

He hugged me, taking my breath away. "I won't let you down. I'll never leave you, Sandy."

I had another mind trip, helped by the blood loss and the difficulty of breathing under his vice-like grip. I lay there, in his arms, motionless. It felt like death -- knowing that rebirth lies just a step ahead.

But he let go after a while, shifting me aside so I could drown again in the sea. "Now, time for work. What are you willing to do."

I was still trippy and dizzy, so I had to force the smile, but I had made up my mind. "Just ask."

"Say it, Sandy."

Now my grin was somewhat natural. "You know I'll do anything and everything you ask."

He smirked happily. "Well, I have a job for you, but I can't drive with you on my lap, you know."

I shifted around, hauling myself onto the copilot's seat. Letting go of his warmth. Knowing well that the road to hell was a rough one, but that he'd take my hand to lead me there.

Dreams (3) - The Bank

I was still in a sort of a trance as we got into the car. Nothing really made sense anymore. That's to say, I hadn't been expecting what had just happened.

Andrei pat my shoulder and sighed. "Okay, I guess not everybody is too fond of me. But, let me show you another example, okay?"

He drove to a nearby bank office and gently led me to the director's office. A well-dressed woman, around her late thirties, welcomed us warmly. "Hello, boss. I wasn't expecting you, is there any problem with--"

Andrei cut her off. "No, we're not here about business. My friend would like to have a conversation with you." For once, he ignored the fact that she'd called him boss, which was quite... surprising.

Okay, she was something else. A couple details threw her facade away, but overall, she was putting up quite a good act. She got up and offered me her hand. "Welcome, my friend. I'll gladly answer any question you may have."

I shook it firmly, in a friendly gesture, and then we both sat. She looked at me in a way that only someone used to deal formally with clients all day can. It was all a mask, but I have to admit, it transmitted some sort of confidence, of trust.

"So..." I started. "I'm curious. What brought you here? What's your story?"

She put on a polite smile, but behind that, I could see a lightbulb turning on over her head, finally understanding what this was about. "Oh, that. Well... I'm... guessing you know about the bridge?"

"Yeah, I know a lot of things."

Andrei interrupted us. "You can talk freely. He's a good friend of mine, no need to walk over thin ice around him."

She smiled again, slightly more relaxed. "Okay. So, life circumstances, I ended up in there. With a kid, and nothing else. And then one day he offered me a position in here, and I saw the opportunity and jumped in."

"What's the job about, if you don't mind me asking?"

"At this point, I don't mind you asking anything, my friend. I'm the office director. In that regard, I do exactly the same as any other office director. It's mostly an admin job, but I also deal with clients -- him being one of them."

I looked at Andrei. "How on earth did you manage to give her such a position?"

He smiled too. "I have my contacts. And she's a very competent woman who started as a secretary and has since got a handful of promotions." I had the feeling that he had had more to do with those promotions than he was letting on.

I looked back at her. "And that's it? I mean, we all know..."

Her eyes glanced at the door to check it was closed and then at Andrei, who nodded subtly. She focused back on me. "Well, the unofficial job is to keep an eye on the bulky accounts. There's usually not much to report, but... sometimes you see a substantial transference, and that's the sort of thing you make a call for."

I nodded, waiting for more. I knew Andrei well -- that couldn't be everything.

She looked at him again for his approval.

"My dear, he knows everything."

"Well... he's one of our best clients, and another part of my job is as his investor. Including the 'no questions asked' part." That made more sense.

"Okay. So... if you had the choice, would you leave?"

She smiled warmly. "I do have the choice. But, well, I'll be honest, I get a small commission from the investor business, so I won't find a better job anywhere else. And as for the 'risk' involved, well, you know who he is, he's guaranteed me legal protection in case something were to... see the light."

"So, what do you think of him."

She almost burst into laughter. "Oh, well, it's not a secret that he can be a handful. But, I don't have many horror stories, so I can't really complain."

Meaning, she knew well when to bite her tongue and accept her fate instead of getting all cocky. Well, I guess she was quite right.

I sighed. "Okay, so, one last question. It's nothing really personal, just a standard screening question -- one I happen to find it really interesting."

"Ask away."

"Say, you get into a safe room, to find Andrei strapped to a chair. He can't really do anything. Nobody knows any of you are there. What do you do."

Her smile vanished for a second before she forced it to be there again. "Look, I'll be honest. Nobody I know, nobody who knows him, will give you a positive answer to that. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

I smiled. "Well, I would."

"Then you're completely nuts." She managed to keep the smile.

Andrei stepped in again. "I'd like to hear a real answer."

She sighed, her confidence mask broken, leaving only resignation behind. "I... have never really thought about that kind of question. I'm not sure what I'd do. Probably run away, as far as fast as I could."

Andrei's eyes were beaming again. "I had hoped something else, my dear."

She closed hers, trying in vain to hide from the Void. "I know well lying isn't an option."

He drew out his revolver, spun the cylinder carelessly, and left it on the desk, launching it towards her. "Take it."

She sighed before taking it. She was trying hard to keep her head on her shoulders, but it wasn't exactly easy. What had she seen? Only they two knew.

And Andrei wasn't helping. "Look at me." He waited for her eyes to meet his. "What are you willing to do."

"What... what do you want."

"I want to know I can trust you. I want to see you're willing to do whatever I ask. Point it at your head and pull the trigger."

She closed her eyes again, in complete silence, her hand slightly shaky as it rose to her temple.

Click.

She was lowering the gun when Andrei stopped her. "Again."

"Oh, god..."

"Or you know what happens."

She took a deep breath, again in silence, this time a tear betraying her emotions, her hand now visibly shaking while going up, a long pause before finally pulling the trigger.

Click.

Andrei grinned. "Okay, that's enough."

She was still shaking when she left the gun on the desk.

Andrei took it and put it back into his inner pocket. "Open your eyes." He waited for her. "Good job. See you around." He turned towards me. "Let's go, Sandy."

Dreams (2) - Pawn Shop

Andrei drove me to a shabby pawn shop, the kind where all sort of useless trash fills the walls, in hopes somebody will think some of it is worth their money. A couple of the things made kinda clear that there was more to it than what it seemed -- which, knowing that the man worked for Andrei, didn't come as a surprise.

The man's eyes illuminated when he heard the door chime and saw a new face, but soon turned ice cold as he saw Andrei enter right behind me. Still, he tried to be polite and hide his uneasiness. "Hello, my friends. May I interest you in something? I have recently acquired--"

"Cut that crap." Andrei coldly interrupted him. "My friend wants to talk to you."

The man looked at me, surprised. "Oh, sorry, my bad." He forced a polite smile. "I'm used to people being here purely for business. So, what do you want?"

I sighed before dropping the bomb."Why work here."

He was trying hard to be polite. "Well, I like this place. It's like a dreamland. People sell the trash they don't want anymore, and others find treasures in it."

"You know what I mean," I said bluntly, pointing at Andrei with my head.

"I wouldn't be here if not for him, you know. It's... This all is like a dream come true." I could tell he was telling only part of the truth. As in, yeah, that was technically true, but he was omitting the other side of the coin.

"So, what do you think of him."

Again he forced a smile, trying hard to hide his nervousness. "Well... I see you bear the mark, so, I can't really tell you anything new under the sun, can I? ... We all know how he is."

I glanced at Andrei -- his guy wouldn't actually talk with him there. He didn't need a word. "I'll leave you two talk in private. Sandy, I'll be in the car waiting for you." And so he left.

I looked again at the man. "Be honest. I'd like to know why."

He glanced at the door and relaxed a bit. "Well, I haven't told you a single lie..."

"Yet you haven't told me the whole truth, am I right?"

He sighed. "Yeah. This is a nice place, and I'm really happy that I got to be here, but... he's a headache to deal with. I wouldn't be here if not for him, but every time he comes through that door, I wonder if all this is worth the price I pay for it."

"Would you leave, if you had the chance?"

"My contract says nothing about ending it, so I guess technically I can. But you know, I'm too old to find something else. This pays well, I live a comfortable life... And I somehow don't think he'd be thrilled if I told him I'm leaving, you know."

Yeah. Exactly what I had expected. A polite smile as thanks for a comfy life, that under the nice surface was hell.

I sighed. "Okay, okay. Last question. This... doesn't really have anything to do with you, it's just a standard screening question we do when doing a job evaluation, but I think it's a really interesting question."

He seemed slightly worried at my wording. "Fire away."

"Okay. So, I get you to a motel room, nobody knows you're there. Okay? And inside, you find Andrei, strapped to a chair, not able to really do anything. Also, nobody knows he's there. What do you do?"

He put up a polite smile, but the color seemed to drain from his face. "I... can't really answer that, you know."

"Why not," I asked, trying to be friendly. The question was indeed pretty standard in screenings. I simply found it incredibly interesting.

He sighed. "Fine. I'd call the cops, let them take care of him." He was trying to imply that the cops would go after him, but it was nonsense, and he knew it. Not only Andrei was the Head of Detentions, Intelligence, but also unofficially half of the cops worked for him, and most of the other half knew better than to mess with him.

"You know I'm good at telling when someone's lying, right?" I smiled.

He went white. "I--"

Someone decided it was a good moment to interrupt our conversation. He was creepily grinning, as usual, when he casually opened the door and leaned against the counter. "Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing what you said. You know, I want to know what your answer actually is."

The man froze for a couple seconds. I stared at him -- something was not right, I saw it in his eyes. Out of the blue, he pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Andrei. "You want to know what I'd do? I'd blow up your fucking head, that's what I'd do."

Andrei looked at him, amused. Ready. Damn, he was good at this. He had that grin of his, but multiplied by a lot. "Then pull the trigger."

I tensed up. I knew he had it well under control, but still, it was a risky thing to do. I readied myself to act -- just in case something went wrong.

Andrei ducked a split second before the loud bang left my ears ringing. Then he grabbed the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the gun, and brutally slammed him into the counter. "You seriously thought that could work, you idiot?" If he'd been grinning creepily before, now he was beaming, his eyes gleaming with a special shade of void -- there's a reason the whole 'he's the devil' thing is a thing.

The poor man started sobbing. "Fuck, no, please... I'm sorry..."

"That doesn't change the fact that you just tried to kill me. And here I thought I could trust you."

"I'm sorry, boss, please..."

"First, I have a name. Say it."

The man closed his eyes, as if that would somehow help him. "A-Andrei, please... don't do this, I'm--"

Andrei finally leaned back, letting the man get up and sit on his stool, before drawing out his revolver. "And second," he said as he let the cylinder in sight, showing a single bullet, "you're supposed to do whatever the hell I ask. So we're going to play Russian Roulette." He let it spin before swiftly pushing it closed. "But we'll do it with a small twist. You'll be the one who gets to have the gun." He shoved it into the man's hand. "Now, point it at your temple and pull the trigger."


The man was still sobbing profusely. He looked at the gun as if it was an alien. "No, please... I... I can't..."

Andrei grabbed the man's handgun from the floor and pointed it at him. "Well, it's your call. One in six, or certain death."

"Fuck, no, no, don't..." He stared at Andrei for about two seconds before closing his eyes, taking the revolver to his temple, and pulling the trigger.

Click.

He almost burst out laughing when he heard that innocent sound.

Yet Andrei wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "Now, point it at me. And pull the trigger."

The man's happiness vanished, blood draining from his face. He was in this mess 'cause he had made the mistake of... doing exactly what Andrei was asking him to do again. "Fuck... no... boss..."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I have a name, huh?" He looked at me. "Sandy. Do it."

I took a deep breath as I gently took the revolver from the man's hand. I knew well what the chances were -- the game always rigged, the position of the bullet well known beforehand -- but still, it made me uneasy. If something were to go wrong... No. It couldn't. I knew him well. I raised my hand and pulled the trigger.

Click.

We all sighed in relief.

"Give him the gun, Sandy. The game is not over." Andrei's eyes locked on the man. "Try again."

The man was already broken. He was still sobbing, but he didn't have the strength to do it properly anymore. He mumbled nonsense for an answer. "Fuck, no, please..."

Andrei didn't say another word, just took the gun, pressed it against the man's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The man couldn't bring himself to be happy about it anymore. He had probably realized that the game was rigged, that the only way to win was hoping... hoping Andrei didn't want him dead.

Have I ever told you that hope is a bitch?

Andrei left the gun on the counter again. "My turn. Don't make me ask twice."

Dead silence. The man was broken, he couldn't possibly do anything else than stare without seeing.

Andrei sighed, both annoyed and resigned. "Sandy? Will you please...?"

Shit. I hated this, even knowing that he knew well what he was doing. I'd have had no problem in risking my own life... but risking his was different. Still, there was no way around it. Again I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Phew. I left it on the counter. I knew well it wasn't over.

Andrei moved it further towards the man. "Your turn." He pointed the man's handgun at him.

The man had given up. He didn't say a word, he just took it to his temple.

Click.

Andrei's grin was wider than before, if that was somehow possible. "Now, we know where it is, don't we? Now, I'm not going to play any more games on you. Take it to your head and pull the trigger."

I thought the man was already broken. But I guess you can always stomp on the shards 'till they become dust. He started mumbling again. "No, please... don't ask me this... I... I can't possibly..."

"And here I thought you'd do anything I asked."

The man couldn't really hear him anymore, he simply kept mumbling, more and more unintelligibly by the moment.

"You see, if you're not willing to do what I ask... Then what's the point, huh?" Andrei paused, waiting for an answer that wouldn't come. He sighed, finally giving up, and handing me a knife. "Sandy, kill him."

I took it. I knew well what would happen if I didn't. He'd do it -- no, actually, he'd make it worse. So I circled around the counter, and slashed the man's throat open. I closed my eyes as his warm blood soaked me. I couldn't help but to smile at the mess -- blood has something mesmerizing.

Dreams (1) - Why do you care so much

Still mostly asleep, I opened my eyes in the semi-darkness of the room, only to meet his. Even in the dim light that got past the blinds, they were somehow gleaming warmly.

I turned around, images of that night flashing in my mind. I looked at my hand -- the recent wounds were a somewhat painful reminder that it hadn't been a dream. I closed my eyes only to find his -- but turned into a glistening void, full of cruelty. Instinctively, almost sobbing, I reached for my neck, only to realize that memory also hadn't been my imagination -- I had another couple cuts there, right across my throat. I couldn't bottle up the tears anymore.

I was stuck in those thoughts when I noticed a hand over my arm, gentle, caring. Shit. "I'm here, Sandy. I'm here for you."

You couldn't understand even in a million years, I thought. What had happened the night before had been all my fault -- to a point. I had asked for it, yes. But he had delivered much more than I had bargained for. Maybe trying to get me to stop and realize what a stupid idea it was. But it didn't make it hurt any less. You see, behind his "Trust me, Sandy" hid his raw brutality.

Yet every single time, I had told him to do it.

He dragged me closer and hugged me. "I'm sorry, boy. I'm sorry I don't know better."

"It's not even about that," I said coldly. "You wouldn't understand."

I almost heard his soft, sad smile. "I know why you did what you did. Sometimes pain feels better than regret, doesn't it?"

Shit.

"Turn around, let me see you."

My broken heart couldn't possibly say no. I turned around and again saw his eyes, a hint of sadness, of regret, clouding their usual shimmer.

"I'm sorry, Sandy."

I shifted around 'till my head was resting on his chest, his heart beating into my ear, steady, soft, warm. My world melted. Yet it did not make me forget what had happened a couple days before in the club. That poor girl. "You can't understand."

He started petting my head, my arm, lovingly. "You're still thinking of the other day, aren't you? Sandy, tell me, why on earth do you care so much?"

I sighed. "You can't understand, can you? ... Andrei, dammit, they're people."

"Yeah. People are stupid and greedy enough to get in there. That girl could have said no."

"And you could have given her a chance without making her go through hell first."

The very thought of his blunt answer made him grin. "First, I've told you, I'm not a charity. And, let me be honest here, I think you did her a favor -- she'll probably not come back."

"That's not my point. You could--"

"Yes, I could, and no, I won't. There's a reason they work there. They all could go and get some other job, but they don't. What they choose is not my fault, at all."

I sighed. "What about the people in the bridge."

"That's another topic, entirely. Sandy, let me tell you something about that girl. Give her a year, and I bet she'll be back for more. They usually do."

"That doesn't mean it's fair."

"Well, news flash, life is not fair, it will never be."

I sighed. "Why don't you care at all?"

He laughed at me. "Why do you care so much? Look, I get your point, I do. But you're assuming people are nice."

"Not everybody is like... this, you know."

He laughed at the joke. "You'd be surprised. Okay, let me tell you a story, yes? This country used to be communist, as you well know. Ask around, and those willing to tell the truth, will tell you that everybody was a firm believer in the system. Everybody believed in equality, and that stuff. Then the regime fell. Ask around. How many of those communists are now greedy capitalists who don't give a shit about others. That's people for you."

"Your point being?"

"That girl. I'll bet whatever the hell you want. Give her... two years. If she isn't back, ask her if she thinks it's not fair. You know what she'll say? ... That same as she got out, others can. Yeah, sure, it was hard, but worth it, and bla bla bla. Ask her if she'd do anything to change it, and I bet literally anything you want, then she won't care. Again, that's people for you. I've seen it again and again. They all want a better word while they have nothing to lose. But give them a comfy life as mid-class, and soon all they care for is the numbers on their bank account."

I sighed. "Well. Okay. But. The people in the bridge--"

"Those are actual rats. And I can prove that to you. They just don't want to work, period. They're there 'cause they have shelter, some safety, enough food to not go hungry. But give them a job, any job, and they'll say no."

"Working for you is not--"

"It's not working for me. I HAVE offered them jobs, yes. But it's not even that. Not all the jobs I offer mean working here. Most are simply to keep an eye out for news, and other than that, lead an honest life. We can go talk to some of the guys I recruited from the bridge, if you'd like. But anyway. It's not about working for me. They could find any other honest job."

"It's never that easy, they're there for a reason. Some of them have lost everything due to circumstances--"

"And those won't stay there for long, they'll always find a job in a matter of months. Or eagerly accept my offer. But the others -- they're rats who'd rather sit there than live an honest life. And so, that's what they do."

I sighed. I guess he was technically true, but knowing that a couple hundred of people lived under a bridge, and that he was 'partly' responsible for it all, knowing he gave them protection and enough money to go by, the price for his 'help' being having a reliable source of targets for 'training'... knowing what happened to these people, and then hearing him talk like that, was heartbreaking to say the least.

"What people chose to do with their lives is not my fault. Anyway, get dressed, we're paying a visit to a couple of my guys."