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The Hanged Man
Chapter 1: Alphonse - Tribulation

Chapter 1: Alphonse - Tribulation

Chapter 1: Tribulation

“How did it come to this?”

I asked myself that question repeatedly as I strengthened my grip around her neck while erotic music played in the background. The sounds of her gasping for breath, along with that terrified expression she had, drove me crazy. Why was she not dead yet? Could a human really survive this long without breathing? She tried to resist me, slashing me with her long nails while trying to push me away. The more she hurt me, the stronger I forced my hands. If it was a moment ago, I would have never thought that this frail girl could even do anything physical and certainly not injuring me. Was this what they called hysterical strength when one was faced to a life and death situation?

Tears poured out of my eyes as I gathered all my remaining strength. Though in my mind, I was begging her. “PLEASE DIE! PLEASE!”. It was then that my own adrenaline started to kick in. In a split of a second, I snapped her neck. The cracking of bones was much louder than I expected, considering how deep it was concealed inside our bodies. I only saw this kind of scene in movies but only assumed it was just acting. So, we humans really died when our neck snapped. I have always thought it was anticlimactic for action movies to have some major characters die in such a way. But now, my whole point of view has changed. It really was not as easy as it looked.

Standing up straight as I released my grip on the poor girl’s neck, I breathed heavily as I turned my sight on the result of my actions. What have I done? She was such a sweet girl. And here I was, standing in front of her naked corpse. What have I become? I tried to remain calm but couldn’t. My hands were shaking, despite this was my second time. I wanted to think it was because I was still human that I was able to feel guilty for her death. Else, how could I retain my sanity?

I looked at the mess we caused. The pink blanket was thrown off from the bed. The bed lamp was broken from our struggle with the glass pieces scattered all over the floor. A giant mirror covered the ceiling, allowing me to see everything in the room just by looking at it. I never really understood why they put it there in the first place. Maybe the effect of more visual clues gave the interaction a better perspective. I supposed that some people got turned on by this kind of things. Then again, it was not like I was well informed on this particular kind of subject. It was a bit of a surprise to see such a room destined for intimacy and the act of procreating could turn into a murder scene. And just moments ago, both the killer and the victim were on their way to divulge themselves in that same act.

I never intended for this to happen. It was not supposed to end like this. But it did anyway. All because she said it. It was not my fault that she came to me by her own volition. It was not my fault that she was related to him. Could this really be my fate? Was I supposed to suck it up and die like a dog? Why did shitty things just keep happening to me? It was all because of the accident. It was all because of him. Everything started that fateful day one month ago.

* * *

My name was Alphonse Graves, your average salesman employee. Though I was now the manager of a whole branch, I was still low in the chain, but not as much as those nerdy guys. The title sounded like I was some sort of big shot but in the end, it was just another fancy title for a company slave. My job was practically the same, if not with even more things to take care of while the difference in salaries did not really justify it. A guy like me, you could find everywhere wandering the streets, knowing not what exactly they were doing. Even though I was already halfway of my life. Waking up in early morning, taking the metal long box to go to work, only to spend the entire day inside another suffocating box. Every day was the same as the day before. It was like a perpetual loop that just kept repeating itself over and over again. I felt stuck and lost, unable to move on.

Although, to be perfectly honest, a part of me didn’t want that loop to stop. Actually, I would be more scared if it just suddenly stopped itself. What would I do then? The daily life was certainly boring and stuffy but at least I knew how it happened. However, if I came out of that shell, the uncertainty would kill me. Those youngsters might like it but not for an old guy like me. All these years at work, I, and many others, have already been accustomed to this dull life. We could barely keep up with the developing technology like those high-tech phones and computers. Once you became older in life, you could no longer afford to take any risk. Your family, your job, everything required responsibilities, something you could not simply shake off. So no, I would rather be shackled to those burdens than taking a step into the darkness of uncertainty.

While I did think that and accepted my fate for what it was, it didn’t stop me to continue ranting about how boring my life was. And it was not just me. Everyone did that. It was our human instinct to complain about everything, even things we decided for ourselves. I simply played my role as part of the mass and blamed everything else on those rich guys at the top or the government. As time went by, it became a habit, a bad but strangely virulent one. Nowadays, people shamelessly blamed their government for their lack of money while sitting on their ass in front of their TV. Bitchy bastards I knew, though I did understand their reasoning. It was simply much easier to put the blame on someone else rather than yourself. It made your life much less complicated this way.

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Just like that, my entire life was that of a side character: graduating from school, working, forming a family and working. Every day was the same. There were a few exciting moments here and there but none actually concerned me. When I saw the reports on those terrorist attacks in another country, the first thing I looked for was how many people died because of it. I meant, if no one died, no matter how big the thing was, no one would ever pay any attention to it. Besides, it made the story much juicier. I should be honest here. A part of me wished that something would happen. And when I said that, I meant something big, really big, enough to shake everything up. Instead of just a few tiny amounts of dead people, why not blowing up the whole freaking building? Or maybe the entire airport or something like that. Either way, I wanted something interesting. But I certainly did not want it to happen to me though. Maybe like it could happen but somewhere far away from me, so I could watch safely in the side lines while still able to go to work perfectly normal the next day. Surely, a lot of people shared the same idea as mine.

I thought that I was abnormal at first back when my body could still run around the whole street without breaking down and gasping like crazy. But as you went through shitty things in life, things changed. I did not start out like this. When I just finished school and started out my first job, I was so excited to finally be free from those boring days at school. Back then, I never understood why my colleagues always looked so tired, as if they were forced to be there. Every day, they either spent the entire work time searching for cat pictures on the net or chit-chatted behind someone’s back. How could these idiots get where they were? But slowly, before I knew it, I became one of them too.

By this point, I was probably a sick man. But those were simply the wicked thoughts of the human mind buried deep in our subconscious. Deep down, we were all the same. The essence of conflict, the desire for something out of the ordinary, I was sure that everybody shared the same idea as mine. I wasn’t anything thing special, not a psychopath and certainly not a saint. I was simply being human.

Still, I played my part in society and no wanting to sound pretentious or anything but I was sure I did a good job being a contributing member of the group. I have never committed a crime in my life. I paid my taxes dutifully. I was a proper citizen. I have always respected the laws and performed my best in any task given to me. That certificate of the employee of the year I hang on my wall was not just for show. I was well liked among my colleagues, probably because I never yelled at them even if they failed something. Personally, I believed that scorning people to put them down was unfavorable in term of productivity. People liked to hear good things about them and refused to listen when confronted with their failures. I found that with just a couple of few encouraging words, a pat on the back and a smile on the face did wonders to people. It didn’t cost me anything and most of the time, it improved their productivity. Well, it worked in most cases. There were a few exceptions here and there but those were just a tiny minority of rebels. Besides, antagonizing someone over work would make a bad image for me.

My boring life took a turn when I first met my wife during a friend reunion. She was my acquaintance back then but simply a friend of a friend. Still, somehow through that crowded room, I saw her under a heavenly light. Our eyes met and one thing led to another. Eventually, I settled down with a lovely wife and had a beautiful daughter. It might be difficult to believe considering what I said but I saw myself as a proper husband and a loving father. I loved both of them from the bottom of my heart all the way to the top. They were my treasures, the only thing I cherished truthfully in this boring life.

Again, I was just your average salaryman. Nothing interesting ever happened in my life but I knew my place. I was content with what I had. A peaceful life, that was all I wished for. To spend every boring day in this boring life just like this, to live until the end of my life fully, to sit in your backyard and drinking my afternoon tea with my wife under the sunny sky, to lead my daughter to her school, to see her grow up into another fine lady just like her mother, to see her being married to one lucky bastard and cry back home while holding onto my family album. Those were my dreams, nothing special. Perhaps I was too laid back. Perhaps I should have asked for more. But if those things happened, I would be happy with my life. They were all that I asked.

“So tell me, God, or whatever you are up there, why did you do this to me?”

That day, while I was at work, just doing my job, as always. We were having an important meeting with a partner company about the upcoming project. It was about some kind of new invention that was supposed to revolutionize the whole tech industry. Or at least, that was what they claimed it to be. They didn’t even send the documents to me beforehand, saying it must remain top secret. I was not thrilled with the idea of coming to a meeting unprepared but it was not like I could go against the wishes of my boss. So much for employee of the year.

Anyway, as we were just passing through the boring introduction, my secretary rushed into the meeting room with a phone in her hand. Stupid woman, I told her to not disturb my meetings again and again. But she never learnt.

“But sir, this is important.”

“I am busy, don’t you see?”

“But…it is from the police.”

“What?”

“It is about your wife and child…They were in an accident.”

For a moment, my mind seemed to have shut down itself. I was so taken back by the news that I didn’t manage to hear what the secretary was going on and on. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the morgue. The police have apparently led me here to identify the corpses. But there wasn’t much to see. And whatever was left, it was hard to stomach. I did not quite manage to follow but there was another driver. It was him who recklessly collided into my wife’s car just because he couldn’t wait a few seconds for that red light. My wife lost control of the car and it hit an electric pole before exploding into pieces. Everything happened too fast before the rescuers could take them out so the only things that could still be found were two charcoaled remains of an adult and child. Even the bones were turned into ashes, especially for the child.

I couldn’t recognize them. Were they telling me that these piles of black slags were all that was left of my family? I couldn’t utter a word. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to make out of this. My mind went into a hazy blur as it tried to cope with reality. I couldn’t shed even a single tear. I just stood there, staring at the bodies. Then, everything fast-forwarded. I wasn’t sure how much time has passed. A few days perhaps. Either way, I found myself standing at the church in front of two sealed coffins. I looked back, only to see the crying faces of our families. Some of them I knew, others I was not even aware of their existence. Actually, I was never the type to keep contacting people I didn’t see often. Most of the people here were on the family side of my wife. I supposed mine couldn’t be bothered to come, not since the day I left that house behind. The empty words of consolation, I needed not to hear of them. The bright flowers decorating their graves, I had no need for them. All I wished for was a peaceful life with my family. Was that really too much to ask?

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