I wake up in the dark, my arms held up and away by chains. There are shackles around my wrists, and as I shake off the grogginess of the sedative, I notice hints of rust eating away at the material. I test the strength of the metal, but it's not damaged enough to yank off. I'm being held up in a small circle of illumination from a spotlight connected to a catwalk above me. Before I can adjust my eyes to see better, the brown suit man enters the circle of light, his own eyes faintly glowing red.
I'm getting tired of waking up like this.
He looks me over, as though sizing me up. "Hello again, Vagabond."
"And who are you supposed to be?"
He shifts on his feet a bit, surprised. "Interesting. Let's just say we've met and exchanged blows, as it were."
"You were the one who tried to kill me. Got it."
He smiles, "I see your apparent brain damage hasn't interrupted your quick thinking."
"You're too kind," I spit back. "You know my name, now let's hear yours."
He smiles again, bigger, and worse. "You may call me Theodore. That is not Theo, mind you. I have known too many men who went by Theo, with far less class."
I snicker. He sounds like a certain other know-it-all I'm familiar with. "Fine. Why did you bring me here, Theodore?"
He begins to pace around me, considering his possible responses. He takes a quarter loop before stopping suddenly, standing uncomfortably still. "I wanted to have a chat, before I have to decide to kill you again."
I hesitate, trying to control my heart's rapidly quickening pace. "...How am I doing so far?"
"Better than the last time, but improvement is a never ending struggle, to be sure."
Smug bastard. If I wasn't chained up we could have a proper fight, then we'd see what needs some improvement. Probably a good idea to keep it cool for now, keep him talking.
"Tell me why you want to kill me."
He faces away from me, but I can see the corner of his mouth curl into a pained smile. "Right into the meat of things, then." He steps back in front of me and faces me directly, with an expression that seems surprisingly apologetic. "I am a man who specializes in calculating potential branching futures, having some small amount of knowledge regarding actions and consequences. Please do not think me a vain man, merely one who prefers prevention to correction."
"What does that have to do with me?"
His expression melts to a mix of serious and fear. He's the one who has me chained up, what does he have to be afraid of? "I looked into your future and saw a great many things. I saw you in pain, and inflicting that pain on others. I witnessed countless thefts and acts of violence. I watched as you turned into a monster. And now I fear that I am too late. You have already begun, judging by those stolen eyes, and who knows what may happen now. What say you, Vagabond? Isn't it better to prevent suffering than to alleviate it?"
My stoicism wavers.
"I saw you assault people for looking at you wrong and taking bits and pieces as you pleased. I worry you will soon hurt the ones closest to you. You are a time bomb, Vagabond, ticking down to a future that I do not want. I'm sorry, your piece is too dangerous to leave on the board."
I can no longer meet his eyes. I can't even stomach myself. Maybe he's right.
Maybe I do deserve to die.
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He deserves to die.
No one hurts my V and gets away with it. Not even me.
YOU ARE READING
Synthetic Violet
General FictionA hero shows up at a villain's doorstep one night. Dazed and bleeding, they look up at the villain, mumble "...I didn't know where else to go," and collapse. This is the story of Phillip and V.
