voice, your face, you’re like a monster,” the man joked.
Pablo unrolled the canvas, displaying its contents, tools and knives. With a gentle touch, he straightened out each tool and lined them up perfectly.
Another prisoner wailed, “What are you going to do?”
Pablo ignored that man and put his focus on the first man. “Name?”
“My name is sergeant, fuck off!”
A devilish grin stretched across Pablo’s face. He picked up a pair of channel locks and stepped over to the man. “Name?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
Pablo cleared his throat and said, “My name is Emperor Pablo Luiz of the Pan American Empire.” He swallowed hard and continued, “But tonight I’ll be what you called me, a monster.” He reached up to grab one of the man’s fingers when the radio in his jacket came to life.
“Hector, this is Anna. Dinner is ready.”
Pablo paused for a brief moment then continued his reach.
“Hector, where are you? The dinner bell has rung and we’re waiting for you.”
Pablo stopped and went back to the table; he opened his pocket, retrieved the radio, and keyed it. “Coming.” He looked at Luis and the others in the room, including the prisoners. They all returned his look with bewilderment.
“There you are, hurry up. The pheasants look divine.”
He keyed the radio again.
“Help!” the second man hollered.
Pablo put the radio down, quickly stepped over and smacked the man in the teeth with the channel lock.
“Hector, you okay?” Annaliese asked.
Pablo exited the tent and replied, “Fine, coming in ten.”
“Okay.”
He strutted back in and tossed the radio and the channel locks on the table. He picked up a ball-peen hammer, turned to one of his guards, pointed to the first man and ordered, “Hold his leg.”
“Yes, Emperor.”
When the man’s leg was still, Pablo looked at the other men and said, “Watch.” He slammed the hammer on the man’s knee, then again and again until the man’s knee was pulverized to mush.
The man screamed out in pain but never yielded any information.
Pablo said, “Hold his other leg.”
His guards promptly did as he ordered.
The man was supporting all of his weight on the one leg.
Pablo did the same to that knee.
The man dangled by his arms now but was not quitting. “Fuck you.”
“Pull his pants down,” Pablo ordered.
The two other prisoners look mortified.
His guards did as he commanded.
The man now hung naked save for his socks that were soaked red with blood.
Pablo tossed the hammer, picked up large shears, looked at the other men and said, “Talk?”
“I’ll tell you anything. Please don’t hurt me,” the third prisoner cried.
“Whatever you want to know, anything,” the second man begged.
The first man hung, but was still resistant.
“Good man,” Pablo said to him. “Strong.” He then without hesitation sliced off the man’s genitalia.
The man wailed in pain then passed out.
Pablo threw the bloody shears on the table, turned to a shocked Luis and said, “That’s how you do it.”
Luis nodded with fear in his eyes.
Pablo picked up his coat and exited the tent just as his radio crackled to life again.
“You’re now officially late for Christmas dinner,” Annaliese said.
He replied, “Coming now.”
“Okay.”
He stuck his head back in the tent and said, “Get me the info.”
Luis nodded and replied, “Yes, Emperor.”
***
He raced back to the house and, for him, practically sprinted inside once he arrived.
Annaliese met him first and said, “There he is, our guest of honor.”
Pablo looked surprised to see not only the family but a much larger group of people had been gathered from the hospital they ran on site.
“Merry Christmas!” everyone cheered in unison.
Pablo looked confused.
“You look out of sorts. Everything okay?” Annaliese asked concerned.
Not wanting to give away anything, he nodded and replied, “Fine, tired.”
“Don’t be too tired. It’s time to
Learning to Kill: Stories