Requiem for a Mouse (28 page)

PRINCE

It hurt to open his mouth. Prince didn’t know how long he was out for but it was long enough for all the moisture to drain from his lips. Whenever he tried moving them, their cracks would split open and bleed.

He coughed out a raspy breath and shook his head. A rope rubbed against his neck. Prince tried moving his limbs, but all he managed to do was to wiggle his toes. They were held in place, his arms behind him, his feet to the floor. A heavy black bag covered his head.

“Flower?” Prince shouted through the bag.

His voice echoed.

Prince struggled against his restraints, grunting and screaming, but to no avail. Sweat cascaded down his body, costing him what little water he had left.

He heard the click of a door unlocking, then the creak of one opening. Then footsteps, light and steady as they approached him.

“Hello.” The Dragon said.

The bag disappeared.

Prince squinted at the single lightbulb in the room. He looked around. It was all cement. Above him, the cement was stained with dark splotches.

“Where’s Flower?” he asked with hoarse words.

The Dragon reached into his jacket and produced a silver flask. “I’ll be asking the questions.”

“Tell me where I am.”

The Dragon shook his head and walked behind Prince. Prince tried following him with his gaze but he could only turn his head so far.

“Where were you yesterday morning during the storm?” The Dragon asked.

Though it burned his lips, Prince smiled. “I was in church all day. Praying for your safety.”

“Funny.” The Dragon did not sound amused.

Prince felt a foot on his back and then he was shoved forward. The rope around his neck jerked backwards and tightened around his neck until he was gagging.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” The Dragon said. “I have on camera The Slasher comforting Sasha in her final moments. Two days ago, he burst into Hawk’s Lair with a gun to save her. I’d ask her about it but she got herself killed.”

The Dragon pulled Prince back onto his feet. Prince gasped for air and immediately coughed it all out. Every cough felt like a flame erupting from his throat, but Prince couldn’t stop himself. He coughed until his insides were thoroughly burnt.

The Dragon stepped in front of Prince, a deep frown on his face. “Are you The Slasher?”

“Bite me.”

The Dragon stared at Prince, scrutinizing every twitch to see if he was lying. “Do you know who The Slasher is?”

“I thought it was you.”

“There was a girl with you,” The Dragon said. “If you don’t know, then I’m going to have to ask her. And I promise you, I won’t be as pleasant as I’m being now.”

Prince looked up, his eyes widening. “We don’t know anything.”

The Dragon sighed. “Then I suppose, you’re no use to me at all.” He held the flask over Prince, spilling its contents onto Prince’s head.

Prince almost dry heaved at the smell of it. The liquid poured down his hair and over his broken lips. It seeped into the cracks and burned.

“What we have here,” The Dragon said as held up a match, “is a mix between gasoline, acetone, diesel, and a few more fun things. Basically, it will burn for hours. Let me ask you again, do you know who The Slasher is?”

Prince stared at the match in The Dragon’s hand. He shook his head.

The Dragon lit the match and held it to Prince’s face. “Who is The Slasher?”

“I don’t know.” Prince said. He inched away from the fire, straining his neck to its limits. But the further he pushed away from the match, the closer The Dragon brought it.

“Liar,” The Dragon growled. “You know! Who is The Slasher?”

“Fucking bite me!”

The match burned mere centimeters from Prince.
“You know!” The Dragon roared.

“Fuck!”

The Dragon threw the match onto the ground and stomped it out. He sneered and turned toward the door. “Salib, bring me the other Mouse.”

As soon as he shouted the order, the feint sound of scuffling feet and high-pitched protest resounded from the door. A spectacled man walked in dragging Flower by her hands. When he crossed the doorway, he shoved Flower onto the ground.

Flower glared at the spectacled man. “Fuck off.”

Prince grinned.

LAO

Children are so troublesome.

Lao took out his revolver and cocked it. At the sound of the metallic click, Prince and Flower kept still. Both eyed the gun.

“Prince, if I’m anything, I’m a man of my word.” Lao raised the gun until its nose pointed at Flower’s forehead. “Did I not say that I would be unpleasant to your friend?”

Prince was no longer smiling. “She doesn’t know anything,” he said.

Lao chuckled. “Then I guess it shouldn’t matter to me whether she lives or dies. But that’s not my choice to make, it’s yours.”

“I don’t know anything either.”

Lao shook his head. “Is that your final answer?” His finger twitched on the trigger.

Prince, who was usually quick to respond, no longer had any words to say. He looked from Lao to Flower, his mouth moving but no words came out.

Lao shrugged. “Alright then.” He pulled the trigger.

“No, no, no! Wait!” Prince screamed.

Flower jerked away from the gun, her eyes squeezed shut.

The cylinder spun and clicked into place. The hammer swung down and produced a metallic clang, but the gun didn’t fire. Through the entire process, Lao didn’t take his eyes off Prince.

“I’m not sure how many bullets are in this thing. Perhaps it’s none, perhaps it’s five, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Prince stared at him wide-eyed. His breaths were ragged. “No we won’t, I’ll tell you everything I know. Just put the gun—”

Lao pulled the trigger again.

“Stop!” Prince screamed. “Don’t fucking—”

Lao fired again.

Flower squealed.

“Stop it! I know who The Slasher is! I’ll tell you everything you want to know!” Prince shrieked, leaning toward Lao. His eyes were wet with tears and he was leaning so hard that the rope had started choking him.

Lao smiled and lowered the gun. “First question, who is The Slasher?”

“A Mouse named Maverick,” Prince said. “He did drops with us.”

“What does he hope to accomplish?”

“He wanted to protect Sasha.”

“Oh?” Lao raised a single eyebrow. “Now that she’s dead, what will he do?”

Prince was slow to answer. “I don’t know.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t.”

Lao frowned and raised the gun to Flower’s head once again. “You’ve lied to me before.”

“I really don’t know. He ran off after telling us Sasha died.”

“Unfortunate.” Lao squeezed ever so slightly. The hammer of his revolver inched its way back.

“I swear to God if you pull that fucking trigger I’ll bite my own tongue off!”

Lao gave him a disinterested stare while continuing to squeeze.

“I can find him for you!” Prince screamed in defeat. “Just stop. I'll find him and bring him to you.” He said with his head down.

This caught Lao’s attention. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I know him better than anyone in this city. I can do it.”

“Alright.” Lao nodded. He holstered the gun and stepped toward Prince. “Now, go back to sleep.” He grabbed the black hood and put it over Prince’s head.

PRINCE

Prince awoke feeling like his head had split in two. With every heartbeat, a dull pain pulsed from his cheek to his forehead. He stared at the black mesh covering his face trying to pick out anything familiar. There was nothing.

He sat in what felt to be a very nice chair. His bottom sunk into the cushions and the back of the chair melded into his figure. There were lights all around him, but through the hood, he couldn’t make out what produced the light.

“Hello Prince,” said The Dragon. “I see you’re finally awake.” A shadow in front of him moved.

The hood came off. Prince squinted into the light of chandeliers. He recognized the place. Hawk’s Lair.

He looked down, surprise to see his broken hand wrapped in clean bandages. All around him were men in suits. Each stood like a soldier at attention, back straight, eyes forward, and hands at their sides.

The Dragon sat across from him in a curling oak chair. The wood resembled crashing waves. In between them was a table polished to the point that it was practically a mirror. On the table sat a chess board and a bottle of water.

Prince eyed the water and licked his lips. He peeled his gaze off. “I already told you everything I know,” he said in a raspy breath.

The Dragon nodded. “I believe you. We’ll be working close together for a little while so I thought we should get to know each other. I heard you liked chess.”

“Where’s Flower?”

The Dragon smiled. “I released her, she’s probably back home.”

“Why?”

“By the end of our game, you’ll understand.”

Prince stared at the chess board, already set up. The pieces were carved from solid oak and their bottoms had fine felt. Inscribed along the edges of the chessboard were dragons.

“Chess?” Prince asked.

The Dragon nodded and held out his hand to motion at the water bottle. “And please, help yourself.”

“What are you trying to pull?”

“I already told you, for you to get to know me. You should feel honored, I even closed down Hawk’s Lair for this occasion.” The Dragon motioned to the water once again. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I don’t have to resort to cheap tricks to do that.”

Prince snatched the bottle and squeezed the water into his mouth. Within seconds, it lay crumpled and dry in his hands. “So all you want is a game of chess?”

The Dragon nodded.

“What happens if I win?” Prince asked.

The Dragon chuckled. “I’d be more concerned with when you lose.”

Prince stared at Lao, motionless.

“I do love gamblers.” Lao leaned back in his chair. “After all, I’ve built a shrine to you guys. How about this, if you win, I’ll tell you the reason Sasha died.”

Prince’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth but no words came out. At last, he asked, “and if I lose?”

“I simply want a game of chess. But for the sake of gambling, let’s say you’ll work for me. I’ll let you take the first move.”

“I already agreed to,” Prince said.

“I mean regardless of The Slasher. You have talent, Prince.”

Prince stared at the chessboard. At last, he pushed his pawn forward. “Fine.”

As soon as Prince’s hand left the pawn, The Dragon moved his own pawn. The game continued like this with Prince taking minutes to move only for The Dragon to do so in seconds.

Neither had lost a piece, but the board was so packed that it became inevitable. Prince hovered his hand over his pawns, unsure of which to choose. The Dragon placed his cheek on a bored fist.

“You know; chess is my favorite game. Do you want to know why?” The Dragon asked.

Prince ignored him. At last, he moved a pawn into a defensive position.

This time, The Dragon was in no rush to make his move. He looked at Prince, a smug smile on his face. “Every piece has a value.” He said. “A queen is worth more than a rook and a rook more than a pawn. Any pawn would gladly give its life for the queen.”

“Who are you to say how much a pawn is worth?” Prince shot back.

The Dragon leaned forward as if divulging a secret. “I’m the king,” he whispered. “The game ends with my death. Every single piece must be sacrificed to protect me. My only job is to determine the order in which these pieces are sacrificed.”

He moved a pawn into danger.

Prince stared at the pawn and then back at The Dragon. With a small smirk, he took the pawn. “Are you trying to prove a point?”

The Dragon exposed a second pawn to Prince’s pieces.

Prince took that one as well. “If all a king can do is hide behind his pawns then he’s no king. Right now, even your pawns are more deserving of the crown.”

The Dragon chuckled. “Those are fine words, coming from a pawn. But a pawn will never see the bigger picture. A king makes plans for thousands, while the pawn does so for himself. What are the dreams of one pawn compared to that of an entire city?”

Prince glared at The Dragon. When he spoke, it sounded like he had to keep himself from yelling. “It may not matter to you, but don’t look down on our dreams. The few things we have are worth more than any of your bullshit plans.”

“Ridiculous,” The Dragon scoffed. “If sacrificing one pawn means saving two then I’d cut the pawn down myself. If sacrificing all my pawns means winning the game, then it’s an easy choice.” He moved another pawn into an undefended space.

“The king is the last person who can value pawns. You’ll never understand what we go through, what we feel, what we want!”

“But if not the king, then who? Every pawn thinks it’s a king. Because that’s what it means to be human, to be arrogant enough to believe your dreams have meaning.”

“Mine do.” Prince wore a look he had seen so many times before. It was a look of unparalleled confidence, the one perfected by Sasha.

The Dragon smiled. “And this is why humans are so worthless. You think your life has so much importance, don’t you? You think it’s all been so grand. Unfortunately, that’s a lie. Even the proud title you wear as a Mouse is a lie.”

Prince squeezed his fist. “You’re full of shit.”

“You see, drops are just another game we kings play.” The Dragon leaned back in his chair. “We gamble on your drops. Your lives mean nothing but to entertain us. We give you pills just to see if you’ll deliver them. And why can we do this? Because pawns will always miss the bigger picture!”