The only means to gain one's ends with people is through cunning. Love also, they say; but that is to wait for sunshine, and life needs every moment.
Deceit has hurt lots of people, leaving deep seeds of distrust. One lie and lies, and the truth starts being intricately interwoven with lies. There is no more difference among them, one cannot differentiate between a lie and the truth. It is all the same. It has become the same. Deceit had been for a long time and William had been its long-time student.
William learns the act of deceit earnestly, like one studies a calculus problem. It was one of the ways that led to the apex, one of the stairs that led to success. His aunt once told him during her drunken parades, “be like a green snake in a green grass. No one should see you until you strike.’’
To William, what makes a green snake in green grass succeed is deception. It isn’t long or large like its relatives, so it uses other means. Deceiving its victim’s eyes, so all it sees is nothing but green grass, not looking in depth to realize the danger lurking. When it strikes, all is given, it has only one chance. A chance to get it all.
William, though, won’t work in the shadows; be invisible. No one that’s invisible ever achieves it all. “Let both friends and enemies see you,’’ he philosophies to himself many times, “but the nice side. The plush green grass. Hide your second face and your third face. Hide the snake that lurks, patiently. Patiently. Until the strike.’’
This is what he has done for a long time, a trial that has benefited him. Before, the boy William was an urchin, a street boy, one the world will refer to as a nobody. Now, he has a seat on the board of directors in the largest corporation in the world. He aims for more. The ultimate strike should be for more, nothing less.
His obsession to gain more, to reach and grab, stems from being human. No human being is ever satisfied, if one becomes satisfied, it means death. The slow or the quick.
His distrust in people stems from his family. His father in particular. William’s father, with all the knowledge and wisdom that could gray a man’s hair, never made it past a pauper. He didn’t apply any of life’s cruel tricks, because he decided to be foolish and believed in good virtues.
He believed in honesty. To be truthful in his dealings. He had only one face, hiding nothing from the people surrounding him. This is how he trusted, so easily. To William, he was a cool fool.
This world is not for those that bared all out. That trusted and showed true kindness. His father’s friends, who were business partners, knew this. They held onto their convictions and didn’t show their cards. Didn’t show him their plans for his future. The unforgivable error in his ways. In their cards, there were no discrepancies, no errors, and no turning out.
In their minds, they have concluded. In their cards, it has been sealed; William’s father will be stabbed ten times in a dirty shack. At the crisp of their business boom, they will do such. Abscond with his money to another city or a foreign country. No turning back. Because their heart’s convictions were stronger than one man’s, were more in tune with the world’s fixation, fate cast the other man aside to the dirt.
So in light of their business boom, it was done. William’s father’s body was found a week later by the police, in an abandoned, decrepit shack. Nature already decomposing the corpse along with his beliefs, his name only to be remembered in the long haul by his family.
His murderers may remember his name in their bored moments, when there were few drinks drunk and they are moderately sober. His name will all be for jokes though. The punchline to their comic show, because that was all he was to them.
His death may have been the lottery win to some, but it changed the boy in William, the man was born. Incubated and nurtured in depravity. Through his father’s headstone and blindness, William saw life.
***
Bones shook, lips twitching slightly to reveal a ghost of a smirk. His feet tapped sporadically against the tiled office floor, forming a cacophonic noise. He knew he was all alone, so he let loose a bold smirk and then a humorless laugh burst from his mouth. He was going to use his two eyes to watch it all unfold. These eyes will bear witness to it all. To the blood fest entertainment, that will surely happen. His bones shook to the gyrating beat of chaos and fulfillment.
They weren’t smart enough. They carried their guns around, forgetting it had to be loaded before it could fire. His arsenal was fully loaded. So let them plot against him. Let them gather in their little circle and whisper his doom. Those he had been their cat’s paw; done their dirty work, served to rise, were now jealous of him being in the same position as them. Their sleazy eyes cast looks of caution at his very spacious office assigned to him on his promotion. He wiped their fat asses, but now, they wanted to cast him aside like a ragged doll. He has become a threat to them and they, a threat to him.
He was going to make the first move. Quickly he unlocked his smartphone and put a call through. On the receiver answering, William rasped, ‘’meet me at the wood clearing by 11 pm.’’
‘’ Yes bo....’’
****
Insect chittered. The wind blew roughly, forcing the trees to dance to their tune. Dark shadows altered reality, casting frightening images of monsters baring out their fangs in mad melee. A girl’s screams could be heard echoing in the distance as the wind followed to howl.
Dry woods creaked, some dead twigs broken apart by the heavy boots that trudged upon them in haste. Kaito disregarded the sounds all around him and tried to pay no mind to the shadows; it could drive a man up against a wall. He briskly made his way towards the clearing. A certain boss of his will frown upon his lateness, a brief look of anger will be seen on his face before it disappears, to be replaced by a smile. Kaito possesses a wide range of combat skills, has been through hardcore training, but secretly, he fears the man. He was a man who only showed you what he needed to be. He was a master of emotions.
“Fuck,” Kaito cursed. He had taken a wrong turn. He tried to track back when his ears picked up a sound. It was the sound of pure anguish. The shrill noise reverberated chaotically around his brain and was like stepping barefoot on glass shards. Kaito could feel the pain in the voice, it sought a release from it all. With ginger steps, he stalked toward the location, the noise reaching a crescendo, the wind crying as he got closer.
The dirty brown lake had bits of algae and dirt matter coexisting, happily floating on it. In the stillness, the rhythmic lap of the water could be heard. The girly scream sliced through again like the wail of a banshee, making Kaito search the lakeside in haste.
A look of horror briefly crossed his face when he spotted the source of such bad vibes. The man was folded up on his knees. Veins threatening to burst out of his pallid face. He was missing a hand, but the other was used to grab his veiny forehead in a crushing grip. He screamed so intensely that spittle dripped down his mouth like a rabid bulldog nearing its end. His vocal chords surpassed every limit, but that has also lost its manly vigor. It now sounded like a twelve-year-old girl whining. Directly in front of him was a young woman, in a strapless dress with summer sandals. Motionless, not exactly helping.
Kaito, always quick on his feet, decided to go over and find out a cause. On pure instinct, he withdrew back. Now, he noticed a huge detail he had missed. The atmosphere smelled of salt, dirt, and a more sinister odor. Rottenness, clouded with a creepy ominous feeling that he couldn’t place a finger on… And the young woman was not just a helpless damsel. She kept glaring daggers at the bent heap of a human in front of her. Her eyeballs reflected back in the water, an unnatural shade of purple. Kaito retreated some more. He felt a surge, like the feeling that had washed over him before…before…
He was never one to run screaming wolf, but he did just that.
For he remembers. Kaito knows her kind of evil. Has experienced horror and torture by the likes of her. She was a witch and, judging by her glaring purple eyeballs, a powerful one.
