His suit was immaculate and dressed to thrill kill. From his blithe demeanor of a lifetime, one could see he was one who'd never known poverty nor ever expected to. His ease of speech and movement in the sewer of the world betrayed a soul comfortable in its own filth. As such, his presence was commanding, a rat among rats. The castle basement was his retreat, where skullduggery came to live.
"You can bring her down now," he yelled upstairs.
The man-beast to whom he beckoned picked up his gagged prisoner, holding her thin black frame aloft, feet dangling in the air. He descended part way down the wood stairs having participated in this ritual before. The gun was mounted on a tripod for accurate precision. A long silencer on one end, the rear of the gun a rectangular box with handles.
"Hold her steady."
The young woman screamed vainly through her taped mouth as she saw the red dot appear on her stomach. Then the man in the suit fired his shot. The man-beast rushed to hang the victim's shackled arms on a hook attached to the ceiling. Plastic tarp was below, anticipating the dripping blood to come.
The suited man addressed the woman. "Welcome to my world."
The gunshot victim was heading into shock. She'd never imagined a world of such casual evil could exist. Like most, she naively hoped that speaking well of the world would protect her. If only she could share her new precious knowledge that had come at the cost of her life.
"You are going to die. It will be slow. Right now in your heart of hearts you are willing to sell your living soul were I to cut you down. You just want the pain to stop and have a future once more. But stop and think. What possible future could you have after experiencing this? I and my ilk rule the world. Having seen our true face, how could you ever feel safe again? Would you dare start a family knowing you could have to watch their sacrifice at any given moment? No, you are dead no matter what I do."
The words were surreal, the bright fluorescent lights above as the fires of hell. What was happening can't be happening.
"Just so you'll know, I'm not a prejudiced man. I'll shoot anyone of any race, creed or color. Anyone who says I'm a racist or a bigot doesn't know the true me. So sad."
Her eyes were turning glassy.
"This is the world we live in. You must experience what I'm experiencing. Who can resist the pull of self-expression? The pain is excruciating, isn't it? But what can you do? Even Jesus lived at the mercy of others. Do you think you're better than Jesus? I am a humble man and do not. So you see, I do understand we're all in this together."
She couldn't decide which was worse: the bullet or his words. It was obvious he had degraded to this state over a long period of time, filling himself with the convoluted rationales of a detached mind. She also noticed the absence of sound outside of his voice. She was alone in all the world.
"From your selfish point of view this may seem a cruel act. But A: I need this in order to feel alive and B: my life is more important than yours. The unimportant must die so the important can live. That's life. Realizing that makes for a strong leader. It preserves freedom."
Preserves my freedom to screw you!
She realized he was beginning to speak more to himself than to her, the constant running dialog in his head out loud.
"You also realize, of course, that since I'm in a position to do this I have the right to do this. Successful people live by different rules. We are privileged by divine right. To protest success is to protest life itself. Do you feel horror at your death? Then you've been living a lie."
She clung to the belief she would not die. This does not happen in a civilized world! No one would stand for this! She will be saved. The world is not insane.
"To show you I'm an honest man I'll be frank: I hate you. I despise the little lives to be used and thrown away. You live in a world of pretense that your woes and weddings signify importance. They mean nothing. You can have no dreams but what I say - and those dreams are to serve me. Through my insecurity I'll bring order to the world. It's men with guns to whom the world answers. To forgo that is to delve into chaos."
Jesus was not coming from the sky to save her. Death was not far off. How could such men be allowed to roam free? It was plain to see he held no fear of consequence for his actions and she was not the first person he had killed in this manner. He was right about one thing, though: even if she were to live she could never trust the world again. Are we really just a mad people lifting up other mad people to destroy us?
"The sound of your blood hitting the plastic is air in my lungs. Living by different rules is the greatest joy in life. Just imagine what would happen if you shot me! The world would clamor for your death - and rightly so. You would be dubbed an agent of anarchy. The little lives look to we the successful as the holders of salvation. Destroy that and you destroy their hopes. I trust you're beginning to see that shot in your stomach was not the heinous act you first thought it to be!"
She wanted to cry but could not. This one man holocaust was torn from the pages of history, reading his fellow human hearts and knowing he was safe in the darkness he found there ("Many feel as I do!"). No one dare expose himself - and for the man in the suit to be exposed so must his accuser also step into the light. He gloried in his treachery as an act of God. He had come to rule, to deliver the people unto evil.
"Have you ever seen a man not in a suit rule the world? Through your dying I prove my own worth. Each life must be made to serve the world. And since that's killing me I must feed off your suffering. We must keep this dance of death alive as long as possible. For some, this is too horrible to face and they turn a blind eye. Some realize resistance is futile and join the victor. The rest are marginalized by society. You may say whatever it is you want of me but know this: I am condoned - and therefore unstoppable."
The woman was dead. And with her died her truth. No matter, thought the man in the iron suit, time for his inauguration of power. To him, life was about nothing more than winning or losing in the world. He was far too afraid to admit anything else, a prisoner within.