Kill the King by Eric Samson

excruciating
seconds before the informant stopped floundering and meekly
accepted the inevitable.
    Khaled
eventually let go of his unmoving victim, then sat at his own chair
and finished his beer. No one dared look him in the eyes. Boreta
relit the same cigar he had previously butt out and continued his
speech. He wasn’t through with making his point across.
    “When I left
the worthless continent of Europe and crossed the sea, I saw how
things were different here. You all think you’re strong, hard men.
None of you know shit! You do not know what kind of monsters
men can become. Here, my name is whispered as if I am some kind of
demon. Some of you even call me a dragon behind my back. Ha!
In this soft country I am indeed a dragon. . .but back home, a
dragon in not so unique in the company of so many savage creatures.
What you saw tonight was nothing compared to what I’ve seen
during the war. The horrors, you have no idea. I. . .”
    His thoughts
trailed off at the mere mention of the atrocities he witnessed, and
when he regained his focus he opted not to elaborate any further.
Some stories were better left untold.
    “I promised
myself I would never resort to what I’ve seen done during the war,
but now the time has come for me to break that promise. I’ll be
damned if I will ever be betrayed again. I will not lose again what
I’ve worked so hard to build, and if I must, I will defend it with
even more blood than ever before!”
    Boreta downed
another drink. If this was a metamorphosis that he once tried to
prevent from happening, it was no longer the case. He now embraced
it wholeheartedly.
    “All of
you—this is your last warning. Your last warning! What
happened tonight was quick and easy. The next one to betray me will
not be so lucky. Father is angry, and he will not forgive his
children so easily next time. Is that understood?”
    Boreta was
panting from the rage-fueled tirade. It was the only sound that
lingered in the room. It was otherwise as quiet as a crypt.
    “I will take
that as a yes, then. Khaled—take him away now. Everyone
else—leave. Party’s over.”
    Boreta sat down
once more to pour himself another drink. The terrified Family
members hastily left the room. Tyler sprung up with vigour and had
one foot out the door before he heard Marko’s voice calling his
name.
    “Not you,
Tyler. Stay here with me a while. Please.”

    ****

    “Have you ever
wondered why people call me The Man who Refuses to Die?”
    Both men had
remained in the banquet room, drinking heavily for well over an
hour and barely talking. Sweat dripped off Marko’s reddened
forehead and his right eye was half shut.
    I have you
alone now. You’re all mine.
    “ No. I
figured it’s because everyone has failed to kill you.”
    Until now, that
is.
    Marko closed
his eyes and exhaled deeply.
    “You only know
half the story then, my boy. It’s more complicated than that. You
see, it’s not that I refuse to die. . .I cannot die.
It is a small difference, but it is a very important one. I’m cursed.”
    Tyler’s face
remained blank. By this time he was so drunk, he didn’t know
whether he had misheard or if Marko’s paranoid delusions had gotten
the better of him at long last. It didn’t help that his speech
started to slur a bit from all the drinking.
    “You are right
to be suspicious of my claim, but it’s true. Oh, how I wish it
weren’t. . .but here I am sitting before you today. Only men die. I
can’t. I’m not a man. No. . .I’m something else.”
    Tyler clumsily
reached for his gun in his jacket pocket but Marko reached for his
hand and gripped it tightly. His breath reeked of whiskey and his
hands felt hot and moist.
    “Listen to me,
my boy. Don’t leave me just yet. Just listen to what I have to say.
I need to tell you a story I’ve never told anyone.
    I don’t want to
hear another story. I don’t even want to kill you. . .I have to do
it. I’m not going back to the Block, Marko. I can’t. . .I