The Interrogation of Damien Nero: A Remembrance of Light

Warmth Spread Like Spilled Wine

"In anyways, as I was saying previously, the crime began... on the day I was born." Mr. Nero resumed, with a bit of playfulness in his voice.

"Heh, well, then I suppose, that is where you should begin then," Inspector Andere said with a laugh, dissipating any sense of dread that had previously arisen in the small interrogation room.

"You suppose? Not going to force me to talk are you? What of, if any of this, is an interrogation?"

"Pray tell me, when in the past 3 hours has forcing anything out of you have actually worked in my favor? To hell with the usual way of interrogation! You say you are willing to talk? Then simply speak, and I will listen."

"Ha. You really are something Inspector! Not many people have ever wanted to converse with me. Not then and especially not now that I am a condemned man."

"Fault my outlandish behavior on my career, or perhaps on my time in the city."

"I do not think of it as a fault at all, but a product of innate kindness...For example, I could begin my tale at a closer date to the crime, but since I am to die tomorrow...I was prepared..." Mr. Nero began wistfully.

Inspector Andere groaned at the word 'die,' but otherwise remained silent, allowing Mr. Nero a moment to recollect himself and continue, though the Inspector was very sure of where the thought was heading.

"I was prepared to bury it all, but conversing with you. Seeing you, willingly, sincerely talking to me—man to man. I began to think, hope..." Mr. Nero took another tentative pause, but this one more slight. "I thought that it would be nice if... at least one person knew the truth."

Inspector Andere had not expected this additional moment of true sincerity from Mr. Nero, especially not after the past 3 fruitless hours spent together in a stalemate.

"Then a win for the both of us! I seek truth, and you are willing to give it." The Inspector, unaccustomed to acts of saccharine vulnerability, knew of nothing else to say.

"Yes. However...."

"However?" Inspector Andere raised an expecting eyebrow.

"I wish to keep the truth between us two."

"I-" The inspector stopped himself from uttering anything more.

"No matter what you say, Inspector, my sentence is written. I have a crime to atone for. Let this be my punishment."

"...I will not promise anything. I wish to hear the truth, the whole story from start to finish. Leave nothing out. Only then can I make a clear assessment."

"That seems like an adequate agreement."

"At last, the final impasse has been cleared, and we can finally begin with your tale, Mr. Nero! Excellent."

"Ah, fantastic. Now, I am a liar! I spoke of abandoning distractions or deflections, but I continue to evoke them." Mr. Nero let out a small groan at himself. "I always seem to underestimate—heh—how, it really is quite amusing...conversing with someone, like this...like an old friend."

"Well, since we are conversing, like old friends, how about some wine? I brought a few bottles with me from the city. I keep one here." Inspector Andere reached in a cabinet behind his chair.

"You keep wine in your work cabinet?"

"Hehe, this line of work can make one quite stressful, you understand?" Inspector Andere pulled out two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

"I can assume so. I would turn to alcohol too if I had to deal with obstinate characters like myself for two decades."

"Being a man of high standing, this cheap bottle may not be up to your standards, but I have taken a fond liking to it." Inspector Andere pours out two glasses and hands one to Mr. Nero.

"Actually, I rather fancy cheap wine myself. Thank you." Mr. Nero replied, accepting the glass, his hand giving it a light swirl, his eyes taking in the blood-red liquid. "The cheap flavor reminds me of—now spare me any laughs—but of warmth, and the coming dawn. And the color. I once deeply detested the color red. But even after all that, I cannot bring myself to despise it any longer."

As Mr. Nero moved to take a drink, his still-bound hands caused him to accidentally spill nearly the entire helping of wine on his white chemise. The wine slowly soaked into the fabric, seeping down, forming a grotesque crimson stain.

"Oh, excellent. Now, I have gone and spilled your precious wine. My deepest apologies, Inspector." Mr. Nero grieved, setting the glass down on the desk, appraising the damage done.

"I am more concerned about your clothing. Unlike this wine, it looks quite expensive." Inspector Andere stood up to help Mr. Nero clear the stain.

"I appreciate the concern, but it's all the same to me. I no longer need to impress anyone." Mr. Nero shrugged, gently waving off Inspector Andere's attempt at aiding him.

"At the very least, I can do this," Inspector Andere took out a knife from his breast pocket.

"So this is how I am to meet my fate? By your hands?" Mr. Nero chuckled before his tone became sincere. "That doesn't seem so awful."

"And have the last sight you see be my disagreeable visage?" The Inspector bellowed a hearty laugh as he cut the ropes that bound Mr. Nero's hands. "There! That should be more comfortable for you now."

"And you think this is wise? Not worried I might run away?" Mr. Nero questioned, completely freeing his hands of the severed rope and rubbing at his wrists.

"I thought this was a conversation between old friends. I doubt any real friends could comfortably speak together if one were bound."

"Ha. Well, I thank you. Truly." Mr. Nero stretched his arms, raising and lowering them, settling deeper into his seat. "Now, as promised: I will begin my tale. Starting at the beginning with no embellishments and no lies. Starting at the time when I was born, born to be a demon."