The Perfect Lie

01

𝗡 𝗜 𝗖 𝗢

Death is a strange concept.

The act of taking life from someone or even just standing by when it's being taken and doing nothing to help. It's always fascinated me. I'm not sure if it's in a maniacal way or just through pure curiosity. 

The fact that we can give life in a matter of seconds but yet also take it in the same amount of time. What happens after death? Are Heaven, Hell and Purgatory real? Or is it just one big empty pit of darkness?

I suppose we'll all find out one day.

Some sooner than others.

A loud thump snaps me out of my thoughts as my eyes focus back on the scene unfolding in front of me. The single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling sways side to side with the impact of the blow from Samuel.

He often tends to go bit overboard with his techniques, but if it gets the job done then so be it. He's my closest friend and also one of two of my Captain's —or Caporegime— and he likes to get his hands dirty which I have no problem allowing.

"I can do this all day." Samuel taunts as he kneels down in front of the man, after probably breaking his jaw with his fist.

The man grunts, his brows creasing as he grimaces at the pain that Samuel's been inflicting on him for the last forty minutes or so.

I have to give the guy some credit, he hasn't budged at all since he's been here.

Samuel reaches up and repeatedly taps the man's cheek mockingly, chuckling at the state he's currently in.

I was more than willing to take Samuel's place and take charge of the interrogation, but I'm supposed to be meeting with Renzo Antonelli after this and I'd rather not have to change my clothes and clean myself up beforehand.

"Piss off." The guy says, his English accent rather noticeable.

Samuel just laughs again, looking up at him from his kneeled down position. "A real James Bond you are, mhm?" He goads and I roll my eyes, shaking my head at his sarcasm.

The man in the chair doesn't respond to him, instead clenching his jaw and hardening his stare, clearly not impressed by Samuel's joke.

"Let me guess.. Miss Moneypenny is working with all her big suited and booted men right now, trying to locate you?" He continues teasing. "Perhaps they'll show up any second, ready to rescue you with their cups of tea and crumpets."

"Such the comedian." The man mutters mockingly. "Perhaps you could quit your day job and take that up instead."

Samuel turns his head to the side, looking up at me. "Think I could do that, boss? Step down and pursue my dream?"

I stare at him with my arms folded across my chest, shaking my head. "You'd get too many hecklers, Sam."

He exhales, forcing a frown as he turns back to the man in the chair. "Well at least you believe in me, huh pal?" He says as he rests a hand on the man's knee.

I wet my lips with my tongue, poking the roof of my mouth as I glance around the room. This interrogation is clearly not getting anywhere yet, especially considering we've been here for almost an hour and we still have a total of zero leads.