That loud bellowing pisses me off. It’s the sort of noise idiots make when they’re trying to grab attention. Damned fools.

But it grabs everyone’s attention.

Externally, I remain calm and approach the new party. Three newcomers enter the room and notice my approach. The temptation to hiss at them rises. I was just about to extract the information of Poppy’s “why,” but I don’t make a sound about it.

When trapping prey, one must be like the spider. Slowly, carefully, it weaves its web of lies and waits patiently for its prey to make a single mistake. The web catches them, and that is the moment to strike, to poison them, to wrap them up and hide their death. It is all for preparation for the next meal.

So I cool myself and examine these people.

“Who’s this guy?” the noisy one talks first. He’s accompanied by two women on his flanks. Both are striking beauties.

And already I can tell that he and I won’t see eye to eye.

The two look at me. Their green eyes stare at me in astonishment and simultaneously they shout, “The Hero of Frost?!”

Immediately, both leave the noisy one to come to my side. Their mannerisms are similar. I ask the two, “Sisters?”

“Uh-huh!” they both say.

Poor bastard gets left behind by two gold diggers. I already feel sorry for him. He looks to his right and left in bemusement. Still, I despise those who have everything handed to them on a gold plate. He wears a brand-name suit. Versailles is the name, I believe, though I scarcely paid attention to men’s fashion. His stomach slightly bulges and his face is quite ugly, baby-faced even. It all speaks of a rich bastard.

As he’s bewildered, the two gold diggers slam question after question into me.

“What was to enter the Duma?”

“Were you ever scared?”

“What do you think of the Krauts to the west?”

“Did you ever get their aid?”

“How much money did you receive?”

I raise my hand. They both go silent. Of course, the conversation comes to money. I can’t hate them for it, though. Women of our generation did what they had to do to provide food, unlike the comfy bastards who profited off the war.

Pardon me, however.

This old man cannot ever rid himself of his hate of the rich, especially the aristocracy. They were the first to leave. Those who stayed profited from the rapidly expanding industries. But neither cared for the common man. Us soldiers, blinded by our own justice, became cannon fodder while the rich raked it in.

But I crush that hatred.

In the meantime, Mia comes up to the noisy one. “So, Glanche, how are our finances?”

Both gold diggers stare at Glanche who scratches his head. He chuckles weakly. “We already lost half our treasury on the way here.”

The two of them sigh. “All that money we raised--”

“Wasted!”

So Glanche is the chief financier and the gold diggers his assistants. I store that information.

Everyone in the room sighs too.

I try to gauge the damage. “So exactly how much was lost?”

Glanche brings his eyes to me with a questioning gaze. “So is this the new leader?”

“Yup!” Mia suddenly smiles brightly and points her finger at me as though to put the spotlight on me. “And he’s going to save our situation!”

Both the gold diggers agree.

“Well, he is the Hero of Frost.”

“This should be nothing for him!”

Suddenly, realization dawns on Glanche. “Wait, you’re the Hero of Frost?!” But his surprise dives into spite. “So you were the traitor who gave the Colonel to the Krauts.”

“Hey!” one of the gold diggers shout. “That’s going too far.”

“Shut it, Lily,” he retorts back to the slightly smaller of the two before turning his gaze to the other one. “And you, Chris, you better not say anything either.” He curls his fingers, which are adorned with rings, into fists. “I bet good money on the Colonel and lost nearly a quarter of my profits.”

“Say, girls, would you please step aside for a moment?” I look to both of them and they oblige. Mia, however, remains and gives me a thumbs-up. I grab Glanche by his tie. “You don’t speak like that to me. Do you understand?”

“No.” He makes a devious smile. “Why would I respect someone like you? Traitor.”

I shove him down and slam the heel of my shoe to his face. Both Lily and Chris stare in astonishment. Mia makes a wider smile.

The man groans before falling unconscious.

A drop of blood drips from my shoe.

“Get me a Punisher,” I order Mia. Still grinning, she leaves the room.

I look to the table to assess Poppy and Daffy’s reactions. Poppy smiles grimly but Daffy’s smile is quite bright.

“Daffy, what’s that smirk for?”

“Never liked him!” He snickers.

The girls manage to finally speak. “What the hell?!”

“What?”

Frantically, Lily talks first, “Don’t you know who Glanche is?!”

Chris chimes in. “He’s the primary backer of our faction. If we don’t keep him appeased, then how will we maintain our funds?!”

Both of them glare at me, their cutesy appearance replaced by spite. They’re pissed, probably because they had to prostitute themselves to this man and now all their hard work has gone to waste. I’d understand. It was just as everything fell apart the moment I learned my family was killed.

No, they couldn’t understand that.

I make a smile. “I just felt like putting that asshole in his place.”

Their anger turns to malevolence. Irate eyes turn to black ones, the look you’d give when you’re totally disgusted with them. That was the look everyone gave me but it numbed me. I could no longer give a damn. If I did, it’d kill me. Compared to that overwhelming contempt, this is nothing. Before both could scream, I raise my hands once more.

“What the fuck are you going to say?” Two unwomanly voices ring out. Poppy watches with amusement while Daffy hides under the table. There’s a rising storm in their words.

“Cursing doesn’t fit your beauty, you two,” I say.

“No shit! But you just fucked our work up.”

“How the fuck are you going to compensate for that?”

Though I become their enemy, I receive something in exchange--

Money is their credo.

They are concerned with the loss of wealth. To them, that is all that matters. It also teaches me something else--

Not everyone here is for some worthy cause.

But that only means further division. If we are not united, then I have less of a chance at survival. Heh. Another way Mia advances her own goals.

Well then, I’ll just have to use their credo to my advantage. For the interrogator, that is the foremost question. What is their desire? There are many avenues after knowing that. Dangling it in front of a person, threatening to crush it, giving the means to find it, I learned of so many ways we could be destroyed psychologically, but most of the time, it was simply fear.

I need more than fear, however, if I want to escape this alive.

So I identify their desire.

“Compensation, hmm?” I think out loud. They’re both ready to slap me so I continue. “Why should I give you that?” The words aggravate them and I violently seize their arms. “Madames, I wouldn’t want to raise my hand against a lady.” Neither are listening, so I say the thing that will soothe them. “I am a gentleman, however. If it is wealth, then you have my word.”

Heh.

“Those words are meaningless!”

“Give us something concrete.”

Of course, empty promises never appease. This era is too complex for that. When I was young, nobody thought about bullshit lies. We trusted one another, and that was how we were so easily duped into the army. But I didn’t lie when I said that.

“Just wait for Mia,” I say. “You’ll see.”

Neither of them trust me so they both go hmph, but having no conversation is dull so I say, “So why did you become a terrorist?”

“We don’t really care about the terrorist part,” Chris says. “That sounds terrible, but coming from the border we don’t have the time to care about things like that.”

“Yup!” Lily says with a smile. “Sis had bigger things on her plate, but thanks to her hard work we can finally make a decent living.” Her smile widens as she enters a jubilant reverie. She closes her eyes and touches her heart as though remembering something. “It was tough back then, but we made it through.”

“Yeah.” Chris’ eyes grow distant. Staring at the past, she mutters a few words. “We could only do it together.” For a moment, the past captures her but she leaves her reverie with a question. “What about you, Hero of Frost?”

“Yeah, why did you join?” Lily asks.

It is my turn to be nostalgic. I remember the flyer I was given after the war. The question, of course, is different, but instead I recount my own story. “I joined the Resistance for my own reasons.”

Both look at me curiously but don’t say anything and I continue, “Flyers were being distributed. It was right after the war ended. Those of us who knew the truth of this country were arrested, however, and the flyers quickly vanished. Still, even facing political prison, they handed them out nonetheless. And I, fresh and wounded from the war, wanted to avenge my comrades. It was naive, stupid, and reckless but that is youth.”

Everything changes and a different scenery blends into the present. The two girls become guards who yell and shout at me. They’re telling me to get lost, but then someone else comes and saves me. It’s a name and face I’ve forgotten. My lip trembles. I regret forgetting them. Nonetheless, I could remember their bravery and strength. They persuaded the guards that I was harmless. Perhaps, it was a woman but I chuckle. My pride couldn’t allow myself to be defended by a woman.

But that is irrelevant because of the pivotal event.

On a shining, bright day, that person smiled so brightly and so foolishly that they swept me off my feet. I was captivated.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

That was the day I joined the Resistance and soon the name of the Hero of Frost would be smeared with more blood.

It was only a couple years earlier that I was in the Rhineland. That makes me laugh. It’s funny that their indoctrination would work so well, even if I didn’t notice it at the time. And suddenly a piece of her face comes into view. She was a Kraut. I feel like laughing.

While I served my exile, the Krauts loved me. I gave them my country’s most beloved war hero. It was a major blow, perhaps not decisive but major nonetheless, but the whole time their praised stabbed me in the back. I betrayed my country. And when I returned, I backstabbed it again.

“Do you love something so much to the point you’d die for it?” I abruptly mutter.

Chris and Lily look at me strange but answer the question.

“No,” they say simultaneously.

“Not even money?” I ask.

“What good is money if we can’t spend it?” Lily says.

“There’s no point in dying,” Chris adds.

“It’s a bit funny.” I laugh. “You’re in an organization of extremists, but you don’t even believe in your own cause.”

“What’s your point?” Chris glares at me.

“I was just remembering that I once had something to die for but killed it with my own hands.” I begin walking to a chair by the table and sit. They follow, as though trying to hear more from me. I oblige. “Once upon a time, I loved my country but I betrayed it.” I look to the wall for an answer as to why. There are no windows in the meeting room, so I can’t look beyond me, to the outside. I sigh before asking a bitter question. “Do you know why?”

At this point, even Daffy and Poppy approach and silently sit near me. As though I were a raconteur, they all sat around me to hear a story. The sisters’ expressions are motionless when they see them approach. I can’t read their expressions. It’s a bit of useful information, even as I reveal bits of myself, too. In order to draw information, you’ve got to appear a bit vulnerable. The best information extractors befriended you before they closed in on their targets and often you’d do it unwittingly.

But even as I calculate, I know I just want someone to hear my story.

Everyone holds their breath waiting for my answer and I grimace. “Because they wasted us. Our life was worthless to them. We were told that we could become a valiant warrior, but the battlefield’s only valiance was its corpses and they were dead. The rotting stench lingered; it reminded us of the dead. The first day I nearly vomited, but slowly as the weeks rolled on, realization dawned on me. We weren’t heroes. We were corpses. Walking corpses. Our generals and superiors threw us into the fire and we died instantly. I hated my country for that. For treating us like shit.” For a moment, I look away from the past to see the crowd react. The story draws them in.

“I wanted them to burn for that. I wanted to damn them to all hell and back again. It was why I gave the Colonel.” Fury rises, but internally my head cools even further. I control my anger. On the battlefield, you couldn’t rush out into the open for a heroic charge. You’d be shot down instantly. Instead, you bore everything patiently and waited for a chance. But still, I have to bait them, so I twist my face into contempt. “That was why.”

The curtains close and the story ends.

Each response is different. Lily and Chris nod their heads, Poppy yawns, and Daffy asks a bunch of questions about the weaponry.

I wave my hand to ward off Daffy’s questions. He goes silent.

“I’ll answer them later,” I say. “But first, why don’t you tell me your own story, Daffy? Why did you join the Flowers?”

He stops speaking for a moment and pauses. It takes a moment before he gives his answer. “I wanted to build things!”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Bombs that go kaboom!” Grinning, he raises his hands and spreads his arms. “Explosions are awesome. A building falls quickly, and the kaboom is so loud it makes my ears pop! But it’s awesome.”

I nod and don’t bother asking him more questions. He’ll only give the answers of a child. Instead, I take a different tact. “So how was your life before joining the Flowers?”

“Bad.” Suddenly, his smile withers and Poppy jumps from his chair to lunge at me.

Having nowhere to escape with Lily and Chris sitting on either side of me, he pulls me up by the arms, his eyes furious. Meanwhile, the sisters get up and move away calmly. They observe the scene from a safe distance, but my head remains calm even as an assassin looks like he’s going to kill me.

“Put me down,” I order him.

“No.” Various veins comically pop in his head. He starts spitting. “I was going to abide your presence, but our pasts are ours alone. Don’t go digging in them.” Those black eyes swirl with something dark. They’re haunted. “Got me?!”

I nod and he lets go, dropping me into the chair. Daffy is weeping and sits in a corner. He must have ran off while I was being grabbed. The sobs stop when I’m finally let down.

“Aren’t you the reason why he was crying,” I wryly say.

He swings his arm and I grab it. Army training kicks in and I punch his solar plexus, but this time Poppy doesn’t go down and flails his arm around, smacking my forehead in the process. I recoil and my chair slams into the table. Daffy’s crying grows louder, but Poppy runs at me with a vengeance. I smile. When backed into a corner, prey lash out. There’s no point in holding back anymore. He’s just a wild bull at this point.

“You’re just a ticking time bomb, huh,” I taunt.

The punch smacks my cheek but I grab his other arm and throw him down. Without caring for his safety, I kick his skull before he can rise up. I hear a nice cracking sound and feel a rush. This sense of control, this dominancy, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt it. I kick again. Poppy groans but I only kick again.

And then I stop.

Everyone stares at me in mute silence but I don’t say a damn thing. I take my chair and whistle an old army tune. Meanwhile, Glanche groans and begins to rise. He takes one glance at Poppy’s face and pretends to faint.

Unfortunately for him, I noticed.

He’s even more unlucky because Mia enters the room with the Punisher.

She glances at Poppy for a moment before coming over to me. Wordlessly, she gives me the gun. Daffy suddenly sprints over to me and jumps happily.

“It’s the Punisher, yay!” he says. Previously, he was sitting in the corner crying, but now he has a broad grin on his face.

I need to understand these people more. It seems as though everyone’s a bit fucked in the head, but I suppose that’s only natural in a terrorist group. Still--as I crouch down by Glanche--I have to make sure they obey. My finger curls around the trigger. The Punisher is aimed level at his temple.

“It hurts more if you aim it at their head,” Mia comments.

“I know,” I say. “That was where you shot me and it hurt like a bitch.”

Glanche whimpers.

“Now, Glanche,” I say slowly, “if you understand your position.” I pause to chuckle. “It’s really pathetic, you know. Laying with your face on the ground, it’s like you’ve submitted to me.” I push the gun further and press it against the skin. “You hate pain, surely. That’s a nice suit. I think it’s Versailles? But either way, such royal clothing is fitting for the rich. It hides your rotten core.” Lily and Chris laugh at this. They walk over to watch this farce play out. Standing over the man, their positions are reversed. They’re the ones in power now. “See how even your prostitutes mock this filthy appearance.” Neither stop chuckling, not even at the horrible word, because it’s the truth. “If you wish to live a long, prosperous life, you do your best to follow my word. Raise your head and face me.”

Unable to voice his objections, he does. His crushed nose looks like Rudolf. It’s as red as a rose and blooming with blood. Despite his state, however, his eyes remain defiant. Of course, they would be. Truth be told, he has the ability to stop funding us. Hell, there’s probably enough to hire real assassins to kill us, but the sisters understood something from the way I handled Poppy--

I’d break this bastard.

Without hesitation, I fire the gun. It’s fascinating how the bullet hits the skin and melts into it. Liquid poison fills his brain. Shrieks echo the room as the man drops his head back to the ground. He pummels the floor and convulses wildly.

“So why did we never torture this guy?” I breezily ask Mia, even as his screams reach a crescendo.

“Because we’d get too much attention?” Mia says confusedly but puzzlement quickly turns to understanding. “Ah, that’s exactly what you want.”

The agonized screeches suddenly come to a halt. Daffy had pressed the button on the gun to negate the effects. He isn’t crying anymore. Quite the opposite actually. Just like Glanche, defiance colors his face. Manhood replaces boyhood.

“Stop hurting people!” he shouts. “It’s like you have no sense of empathy!” Even his words stop being childish, but his voice rapidly takes on a mature, controlled tone. “You’re just a monster.”

A gun clatters to the floor and the boy swipes it up. Despite his prepubescent voice, those words slam hard.

He aims the gun at me.

In a matter of seconds, he reverses the match. That’s an easy way to describe the battlefield. Arbitrarily, abruptly, violently, winner can become loser and loser winner. Our generals were that incompetent to let a situation deteriorate to that point. I am the same. All these risky moves will eventually come to a head.

Bravery becomes ignorance in the heat of the moment.

Acting so haphazardly has finally caught up with me. It’s a wonder I lasted this long. Both sisters run to Daffy’s side. Only Mia remains with me. Shifting loyalties, whatever is most expedient will do. I easily understand why the sisters betray, but it invokes my ancient sense of honor. It pains me to the point that my lip quivers.

“Yu-You will not hurt my benefactor,” Daffy says but he stumbles over his words. The sudden defiance becomes childish immaturity. “I, I don’t want to do this!”

I expect a bullet but he just clenches the gun more tightly.

That’s the opening! The spider identifies its prey’s weakness. He’s just a child. Not even he can deal with the bullshit of adults.

“Calm down, Daffy,” I say softly, soothingly. “I didn’t want to do this either, but we have a thing called authority in the adult world. I need to make sure people respect it. Otherwise, we’d have disorder.” With each passing phrase, I inch closer and closer. The words seem to get through because Daffy lowers the gun bit by bit. This is dangerous but exciting. Any misstep and I could be shot. Even the sisters are taken aback by the abrupt kindness in my words. Huh.

Wait, this is a speech only meant for children.

A bullet fires.

A warped voice reaches my head as my blood begins to boil over. “You really think you have total control of the situation? How foolish.”

My pride takes a blow. I thought everything was under control, but that’s the bullshit I always swallowed. Thinking I was in the right, assuming that what I fought for was correct, that self-righteous attitude consumed me once more and this is the result. I knew I shouldn’t have accepted her invitation.

Nonetheless, I resign myself.

This is what happens when a man thinks he can take the world. I close my eyes and hope I die peacefully.

How laughable when my lungs are on fire. The Maker must be rolling in his grave. That is all I am to him--

A playtoy.

But then the pain stops.

Daffy begins to cry. He drops the gun in his hand and weeps. Lily grabs the gun for herself as Chris comforts him. She points it at me. “How can you make a child cry like this?”

“Why do I have to create things that harm?!” Daffy wails in the background. “I just wanted thing to go kaboom. Why is this so harmful?! It’s a bad toy. This was meant for justice. I thought we were going to play hero.”

I chuckle. I’ve found an opening to make my move through. There’s still a chance to weave my web. Lily fires a warning shot. The bullet disperses into the wall harmlessly but she snarls. “What’s so funny?!”

“Do you wish for great fortunes?” I ask. “For your dreams to come true? That you don’t have to sell yourself to men for food and shelter?”

“We do women too.” She makes a black smile. “We don’t discriminate.” But the ill humor is only a facade. The eyes cannot lie. There’s a faded quality to them, a haunted pain that makes them distant, as though they were glazed with the past, but they suddenly become clear. They become piercing slits, suspicious and glowering. “But, of course, we never wished for this life. Why do you bother to ask?”

“Because the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Her smile becomes a sneer. “So? Why should we believe in wish-granters? Devil knows what might happen if we do.”

“You have no other choice. You’re already dropping to hell as is. Your bodies are young, but the bottomless pit of time will swallow them whole. Your fate is already sealed. Why not make a leap of faith instead? I have the bridge that spans the distance. All you have to do is walk across it.”

“You believe in the Maker, right?” Lily asks. Her sudden words catch me off guard for a moment but she only laughs. “It’s something you’ve tried to hide, but unfortunately Mia can really dig the dirt up.” Her amusement warps into something vicious. “But we are unbelievers. That sort of faith is unsuitable for us. You called us courtesan but, in truth, we are whores; infidelity is our creed. Are you willing to accept heathens?”

“A question of theology?” I smile. It’s an amusing topic but ultimately one that I scarcely care for. “I only accepted the Maker to dispose of evil in man, for the Maker absolves us of all sin. He is the only blight.”

“It’s wonderfully disgusting how you’ve perverted His doctrine,” she says. “Quite amazing how you turned a religion of faith and trust into something so despicable.”

“Why thank you. I deserve the praise.” I thrust my arms out, palm facing the ceiling, as though I deserve more applause. “You can call me the new founder of this great faith.”

Daffy stops weeping at this point. Chris joins up with her sister. They both glare at me, their eyes flaring up. This haughty nature vexes them almost to the point of them shooting me but not quite because I still might be of some use. That is the way to negotiate in these situations. When cornered, the two most important points are to keep your captors entertained and/or give them something of value.

I don’t dare take my eyes off of them. Mia does something in the background but she’s an unknown entity. Not even the sisters bother with her despite her taking my side.

“So what about Mia?” I ask. “Are you going to discipline her?”

“Why should we!” Chris growls. Piercing eyes stab into me as her head tilts away from me in disgust. “She’s just made poor character judgement, picking a bastard like you.”

“You two really love kids,” I say with a sigh, “but they’re rather annoying brats. They swarm around you like flies, and raising them are a pain in the ass.” Sounds of shotguns blast through the air in memory. They fall like flies. Their youth was stolen in mere seconds. I push the shadow away callously. Memories have no place here.

But the sisters both just laugh.

“Sis, this guy thinks we like kids!”

“Oh man, what a fucking riot!”

I can even hear snickering from Mia and I recalibrate. Agitating them is the only means to give Mia a chance to assist me but apparently the attempt has failed. Well, not like it would succeed in the first place. Not addressing the battle plan to her, I could only hope she’d understand from mere observation, but that is just wishing for too much. Pointless aggravations will lead to my demise. I’ve made too many risky moves. It’s time to take a step back and apologize. Arrogance leads to rushed charges, rushed charges to massacres. Those battle days suddenly come in full focus once more.

The shrieks of the men as they fall one by one onto the ground, the artillery barrage a violent cacophony that seemed to bellow in our ears, the long hours of waiting for the enemy to make their moves, the endless rain and boredom, the way we joked and messed around, those comrades of mine are never coming home.

“You’re crying?!” Mia shrieks abruptly. Silent during the whole exchange, not even I can resist turning to look at her. The sisters do the same. Only Daffy does not watch. His head only faces the ground.

We’re silent for a moment before Mia recollects herself.

My lips twitch from the pain. For a day and half, I managed to ward the nightmares away, but they even come out during the day. Ah, what rotten luck. This Maker really is out to get me. I’m sure He is laughing at this whole charade. These ridiculous turn of events must be surely entertaining, but making it fun is the whole point because then the audience doesn’t know what’s happening in the background.

I close my eyes and collapse. The curtain of darkness falls on this risible sham. All I’ve done was aggravate and threaten people like a thug. Hopefully, having made such a fool of myself, they’ll underestimate.

The last thing I see as I fall asleep is Mia’s faint smile.

It seems she sees through everything, doesn’t she.