There came an echoing knock at the door. A large man sat in a large dark leather chair. He spun around facing the door. His eyes trailed up to the large solid cherry door. “Yes?” He said. The door slowly swung open. A black dress shoe appeared followed by the rest of the man. He shut the door and stood motionless and suddenly reached his shades, removed them and folded the ear pieces. He placed them in the inside of his jacket and folded his hands at his waist. His dark gray eyes looked at the man sitting at the desk. He eyed him carefully.
“Malatesta.”
The man nodded.
“And what do I owe this visit?”
Suddenly he appeared behind the big man, and placed his hand on his shoulder and slightly spun the chair so his ear was close to his mouth.
I could feel the fabric on his dress jacket, I could feel the dirt in it, the loose hairs that had fallen from his head. If only this man knew what was waiting for him, if only he knew exactly what was waiting for him; that I was delivering as a kind gift, a smooth flawless jester from my person to his. “Death.” I whispered.
“Death? And what is this you speak of?” The large man said as he sat behind the desk.
“What is this I speak of… Well its relatively simple, you cease to be, your living spark is no longer, you are but a shell and your eternal soul is but mine. How many ways must I explain it to you. A man that for year put me up to assassinate people that crossed his path, and yet you have no utter clue as to what death is. Have you become all but ignorant in my presents?
“I speak of your end Mr. Hesse. There really isn’t any other way to explain it. I will in a matter of seconds slaughter you. Your trophy wife will walk in, because we all know the only reason she is with you is because of your large bank account, ask her, she will tell you, you fuck like a man with no dick, you really should have thought about loosing some weight, it really doesn’t fit you, that large gut. It makes you slow, not more powerful. She will walk in and see your head here.” He pointed to a corner of the room.
“And then see your body slumped over your desk expelling all your body fluids. And then it will be known that the times of Mr. Hesse will be at a shocking, surprising end.”
“Charles!” He yelled from his desk.
“He wont hear you. Mr. Hesse I want you to look at all the pretty little pictures on your desk of all the children that you supposedly fathered but in fact didn’t father a single one. I want you to look all around your desk and around your office.”
Mr. Hesse turned his head slightly towards me. And then asked.
“So did you kill Jefferson?”
I was in a rage at this, I was about to take this man’s whole existence away from him and he had the gumption to ask me if I had assassinated someone.
Malatesta grabbed the top of Hesse’s head in his palm and made it look at the pictures on the desk, of the bright eyed smiling children with their noticeable false smiles. He then picked up a picture of his trophy wife and held it a few inches away from his face.
“Do you see this? Do you see what I have in front of your face, or have you totally become blind to the fact that before this night is over you will be fucking dead! Not hurt, not in a hospital but fucking dead. Dead Hesse Dead!” He roared. He flung Hesse’s head out of his palm. A thud was heard as the man’s head bounced off the desk.
I appeared in front of the desk, watching as he rubbed his forehead. I cocked my head and looked at him. Fear was not in this mans head. The greatest cause of disobedience is lack of fear. I needed to put it in him is what I needed to do. I took a packet of matches out of my coat and flicked one over the packet and watched it flare up. I could see the tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead, now with a little red spot on it. I was seeing fear in away form in his conscience. It was a symphony. I looked at him straight in the eyes as I lit the rest of the packet on fire and flung it towards a priceless tapestry.
“Out of all things in live Mr. Hesse, you value money and things bought with money more than anything else in the world, and for that you have no fear because anything can be bough at a price, everything but your own death, and for that there is no amount of money that can stop me from taking you way from everything that you love, all that you hold as priceless, and that includes that eighteenth century rug that you hold so close to your heart. You know I was around then when they were making rugs just like that. They aren’t that great, but have your rug now… Watch as it goes up into flames.
“ You know I might as well tell you this. How about a little history lesson while we watch your office and the rest of your beautiful house catch flame…”