Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 20: Rules Of The Shaque.

The Shaque had a new recruit to swear into their organization, and I found myself on the brink of a whole new fate and reality. Standing in Lord Maximus' office, I couldn't believe I was still breathing.

The room was shrouded in darkness, but I could make out the faint outlines of objects. I expected to be a goner by now, but instead, I found myself seated in the office, awaiting the arrival of the Lord of the Shaque.

As I looked around the modern and captivating office, I couldn't spot a single soul. Yet, there I sat, alone, with an open briefcase filled with a stack of money right in front of me. It felt like both a test and an opportunity.

I had never seen or touched such a fortune in my life. My eyes darted around, anticipating someone to enter the office and engage in conversation. I couldn't wait here indefinitely. Sleep eluded me, and I couldn't cheat nature—my eyelids were growing heavy.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with light, causing my eyes to widen in surprise. As the brightness overwhelmed me, I shielded my eyes and gradually adjusted to the illumination. There, in front of me, stood Lord Maximus.

His demeanor was intense as he took his stance, presenting a weathered yet strangely new book. "Go through it and tell me what you choose," he commanded.

With trepidation, I glanced at the book titled 'The Shaque Rules." Flipping through its pages, I was met with a startling array of contents.

Images revealed Lord Maximus surrounded by wealth, followed by depictions of drugs, mysterious substances, gruesome scenes of blood, minerals, unsettling paintings, photographs of cemeteries, skeletons, and an assortment of firearms.

As I hesitated to turn to the book's subsequent pages, an overwhelming sense of dread gripped me. The mere thought of what lay ahead sent shivers down my spine.

Yet, the piercing gaze of Lord Maximus urged me forward; it was as though my hesitation would result in dire consequences. Flipping through the book, the rules etched onto its pages spoke volumes about dishonesty, deceit, greed, unfaithfulness, and disloyalty.

Amidst these rules lay a section outlining the penalties for each transgression. One consequence seized my attention—a grim fate awaited those who violated Rule 7: death.

My initial oversight urged me to revisit it, absorbing its implications. Rule 7 demanded the forsaking of sentiments tied to love or marriage.

Imprisoned by emotional suppression, I reflected on my confined feelings. I resolved not to infringe upon this rule. While the consequences for dishonesty and other misdeeds seemed manageable, impacting only earnings or physical deformity, the fear of disfigurement loomed large.

It was in that moment I pledged unwavering loyalty to Lord Maximus, driven by the desire for wealth and happiness, willing to pay any price, even if it meant my life.

After perusing the book, I carefully returned it to Lord Maximus. Clearing my throat, I mustered the courage to speak, "I've diligently absorbed every bit of information and meticulously studied all the rules," I informed him.

"His calm voice sent shivers down my spine as he asked, "Are you ready?"

With a mixture of desperation and sorrow, I replied, "Yes, Lord Maximus, I am prepared to serve."

"Now, pick one," he instructed calmly.

"Pick what?" I questioned, confusion clouding my mind.

His patience waned, his voice thickening with a snarl, "After absorbing all the information, pick a picture from the first page you opened in the book."

As I reached out to grab the book, his voice thundered, halting me in my tracks.

"Don't you dare!" His voice grew thick with menace. 'I won't offer you another chance to peruse it. You claimed to absorb the information. Answer me now."

Fear raced within me as I contemplated my choice. Images of firearms flickered in my mind, but the thought of taking a life terrified me—I had no expertise in handling guns.

Other options failed to materialize. Drugs crossed my mind; I had a passion for caring for people. The drugs in the pictures were mostly pills, the only form I recognized.

I lacked proficiency in painting, cemetery work, or dealing with hazardous chemicals. These were realms unknown to me.

I met his intense gaze and nodded slowly. "The drugs," I uttered.

A devilish chuckle escaped him, sending a shudder through my core. "Welcome to the money heist," he declared. "Frankly, I didn't expect you to choose that, as it's no simple task."

"But I have no experience," I confessed with a tinge of self-pity.

"He leaned in, fixing a gaze upon me, his raised brows conveying his thoughts. Then, spreading his palms forward, he declared, "First things first—you can't go on like this; your appearance lacks vitality. You'll need to change your look."

As his words sank in, my mind raced with visions of myself adorned in a white coat, anticipating a future dictated by his instructions. "That's all for today, Zayn. Leave now; tomorrow marks the start of your hard work," he concluded.

I rose from my seat immediately, an unsettled feeling accompanying me as I walked out of the room. His words lingered, the idea of transforming my appearance consumed my thoughts. After all, I had never worn a coat like that before.