Trying To Heal

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Derek

The Admissions Team has enlisted fifty new successors out of a thousand applicants.

The sleeves of Luke's buttoned-up shirt are bowled to his elbows, the veins validated in the scales of his vipers. "My colleagues have apprised you of the next steps," he begins to the women. He wanted to show Tanner and me how it is conducted. "I want to recite those reminders if you want to stay alive. You were scouted on the slum sectors to auspicious streets to be joined into the instrument of instruments, and I can see why. Your accountability as a reaper of Azrael is to serve the raptures of the people. That is, you are to protect them at any costs. You must acknowledge and never forget that the people are your first priority. The second vitality is to obscure the truth." He lugs his piercing, blank stare one by one. "You must never expose the doings of this organisation—from the unveiling of the director, and to our agendas. It is not hard to keep a secret." The right corner of his lips maliciously tilts into a blossoming leer. "Especially when you are dead. If you go against these regulations, I will have your heads on a stick, ladies."

He finished his threat so emotionlessly. No remorse. Simple, unbreakable nonchalance that not even the devil he believes in could achieve.

"I have done it before," he says so softly, as if he is comforting a baby with a lullaby, "I can do it again. I do not want you to obey me. Remember you are autonomous beings. Your principles and moralities are what defines you. Follow your heart and intuition, and use them to your benefit.

"You assist me, and I assist you. If you have problems, do not be hesitant to contact me. If your family member is in danger, I will sort it out. Trust me, it has happened before. Any questions?"

The women trade expressions, shaking their hands.

"Very well. Thank you. You are dismissed."

They shuffle out of the door.

"How many people have you murdered, Luke? You said it was over five thousand, and then the warrant for your head roughened to fifteen thousand."

"Good question. Akamai?"

"The Allfather has deceased sixty-thousand imbeciles in fourteen years. A majority of them were neutralised alone."

Tanner pouring hot water into a cup of a tea-bag cuts the silence. "That is the bodycount Jasmine thinks I have slept with."

"And Mother?"

"The Allmother deceased two-hundred thousand imbeciles."

A streak of the Atlantic Ocean is visible on the horizon. Below us, is an open yard of men and women leisuring. "Penny is right. We are difficult to deal with."

Tanner stirs a sweetener in his milk tea. "I agree."

"We are not," argues Luke.

"You kill. I torture. Tanner does both."

Luke runs a finger across his bottom lip. "Well, when you put it that way ..."

"To think I want to adopt—" I scoff a chuckle. "We cannot keep doing this."

"You have to," says Akamai sternly. "You have to do what others cannot."

"You cannot fight a lawbreaker by being one, General."

"Ah, but you see." Tanner lifts the cup to his lips. "We are law-makers."

"These are not just criminals, Mr. Matthews," says Akamai. "These are monsters. The very ones who commit more crime after they have been released from jail."