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Chapter XVI: Chains on Fire

Indulgent
Copyright © 2015
Chapter XVI: Chains On Fire
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"What's it like, being the most innocent and naive girl in this place, and being called the butterfly?" Dr. Petrov asked, pouring red wine into a glass, into two glasses. He walked towards me and handed me a glass, while he kept the other one.

I didn't fully know why I was referred to as the butterfly, or how did I earn that title, or who gave it to me. But I know I must keep it, it'll come in handy when Petrov and his facility tumbles to the ground, and when I free myself from these invisible chains. "It is very overwhelming," I lie, it's actually very uplifting.

"I'll tell you a story," he says, always looking into my eyes. "Once upon a time, there was a man who was bored of being an accountant. He had a greater purpose, a greater destiny, or so he thought. One night he came home to his wife, the loveliest of all the beautiful women in the world. Upon seeing her joy to watch him return home, he decided to make his dreams... Voiced. He spent the night talking to his wife about this feeling, of the fire burning in him, the fire of a leader, you know that feeling don't you?" He asked with a smirk. I looked away, but I felt his eyes on mine, glued there. "She didn't doubt him for a moment, she was proud and eager, to see her accountant, worthless husband aspire to be a leader."

I knew he spoke of himself, and it was interesting, to know this horrible man was loved, and loved in return. Monsters weren't always monsters, I learnt here. Monsters are raised into hatred.

"The next morning after taking his daughter to school he went to work and upon asking his father to let him quit the company, he was struck, in the face, open handed," he said his eyes wide and hooked on mine. "He went home. He gave up. His wife ashamed. She didn't say she was ashamed, but it was clear she was. And his daughter, asking for a Barbie doll, and that poor worthless man couldn't afford his daughter lunch the next day."

Dr. Petrov chuckled and turned away, drinking a long sip of his wine. "One thousand, four hundred sixty days, the same routine, worsening economical situation." I pursed my lips, finding sympathy in the fear that the person we love is disappointed in us.

"His daughter became a thief and a whore," I flinched, "all to pay her father's debts," he refilled his glass with bourbon, and drank it all in a sip. "One day he came home, and found her body dead and-" his voice cracked. "She was harassed and then killed by her own gang after requesting her exit."

I took a deep breath, wanting to take a sip of wine, just to numb the compassion and sorry I felt for him, but I didn't trust the wine, or anything else. No matter how much he drank. "Now for the sake of his little boy and his wife, he went back to the company, took his father's heart pills and emptied the bottle in the toilet as his father died of a heart attack."

What the-

"He became the leader he wanted, the fire lit up like heavenly success, the same success you feel when you're praised," he turned to look at me and I was surprised to see, he had no tears. "People put hope on you, their dreams... So fascinating," I couldn't look away from his eyes, because I have felt that fascination.

"To every leader there is an enemy, Irina," he stepped closer and when I stepped back in fear, I dropped the glass of wine. "And mine killed my son and wife on Christmas."

I sucked in a breath, turning away and facing the Men in White. "Be the butterfly, be the leader they want, but remember, you'll loose everything, everything you worked for, everything you wanted, everything you love, and everything you are-"

"Can I go?" I asked, cutting him off too late. "God bless your children and wife, may they be in heaven together," I said in a monotone. Then I turned around and walked past him. "But may you go to hell."