CHAPTER 29

OCTOBER 23RD, 7:40 P.M.

--RAYSHE--

Writhing, suffocating smoke invaded the jet the second the door opened. The sight before him was masked. Sirens. Screams. Cries. All of it. A great city. A monument to society. It was in ruins.

Rayshe descended onto the street, shielding his eyes from the dust. His agents followed close behind. He had his mind set on one goal; The Piece be damned until he completes it. He felt around, not physically, but with a sixth sense for his daughter that only he could know. He opened his mind to it, flushing out all other distractions. The rising chorus of voices muffled deep into his subconscious.

He searched. Continuing through the ruined paradise, he stayed on alert for any signs of his Maggie.

“Mr. President-“

“Go find out what happened here,” Rayshe immediately dismissed.

“But-“

“No more distractions,” he finalized. Rayshe was more powerful than any of them could imagine. Than anyone in the world could. He was beyond capable, more than how his administration treats him. It was time to leave them behind. They were nothing other than servants to him. He lets them work, subs out his responsibilities in hopes of lightening the load on himself. This is the result.

Rayshe refocused his mind. Again, he searched. The aura his daughter exuded was immense. The imprint her power left on the world that she touched was unmistakable. The memory of that feeling was sharp in his mind. Unlike it’s ever been. He couldn’t feel it. In every step he felt nothing. And with every step, his fear grew.

“Maggie!”

His voice boomed into the chaos. Civilians littered the aftermath, unaware their president was walking among them. Their president also could not care to tend to his people; they were not Maggie.

“Maggie!”

His pace accelerated. Perilously he searched. Opening his mind, he felt for her. He focused even harder, completely eliminating outside interference.

No. That took too long.

He grasped frantically, muddled with the white noise of the injured but now with haste.

“Maggie!”

Rayshe’s voice called out to a shun. Silence. Deadness.

Crying.

A cry of pure anguish. Grief. Sobs of unfathomable pain. A reaction from the severance of bonds deeper than what is comprehensible. It rang in the distance. It was chilling. Haunting.

He stopped in his tracks. The sound of despair just beyond the fog, still just a distant echo, fleeting, yet so loud. The veil of smoke hid him from what terrified him the most. Frozen he stood, unwilling to confront the truth.

“Maggie…” he sputtered. The absence of her presence consumed him. Terrorized him. Shook him deep. A nightmare with no escape.

A nightmare.

Rayshe began into the smoke, his legs moving of their own volition, his mind completely dissociated. The wailing grew louder. A silhouette formed: a woman sitting on the ground, clutching onto a lifeless form. The air was ripped from his lungs. His mind collapsed in on itself as his body autonomously moved him to the source of his unraveling psyche. The veil drained thin. The sight grew apparent.

Nightmare incarnate.

Made real. Before him is what he will see when he closes his eyes for eternity. What will haunt every waking and slumbering moment his blood still flows.

He said nothing. He moved not an inch from where he stood, merely a few feet from it. The mother looked up at him, her face purple and flooded. Her chest heaved for oxygen, only for it to be stolen and expelled in a vicious cycle.

“Rayshe! Rayshe help her!”

Her skin was black. Her body was limp. Her head hung over her mother’s arms, chin pointing to the sky.

He couldn’t see her face. Maybe if he didn’t look, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe it will never become his Maggie. Maybe if he walked away now, the phone on his desk will ring once again like it always does. Maybe his world will be restored, his purpose restored. Maybe.

“Rayshe you have to do something!”

The mother pleaded, delusional and unwilling to accept the nightmare, just like Rayshe.

“Maggie…” he called weakly. He waited. Waited to hear her voice. To hear the life in her body. To see the soul in her form. It never came.

“Andrea…” he muttered to his wife. His words fell unheard over her anguish.

“Andrea?”

She looked up at him, shaking and holding onto consciousness by a thread.

Rayshe shook. In every fiber of his being, he felt the weight of his fear crashing on him. His jaw shook, his legs numbed. His mouth resisted against the motion to speak, but delivered anyway.

“What happened?”

Andrea screamed hysterically. The veins in her neck strained. She clutched onto her daughter tighter. What happened was apparent. The bubble collapsed, and her powers, her disease, which lay dormant and contained for so long reared. But again he asked.

“What happened?”

She swallowed her congestion. She gasped for air. Finally, she was able to speak.

“There was-“ she stuttered. “There was…” Andrea struggled, ultimately failing. Rayshe remained frozen. Reality knocking on the door but not allowed in.

“They killed her,” Andrea sobbed.

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Rayshe looked up, meeting her gaze of misery with eyes wide open.

“Who?”

She crumpled again, squeezing Maggie into her body.

“Who did this?” he asked again. His voice rose. Rage formed. Someone was responsible for this.

“Who did this?”

This would not lie. It couldn’t. He will have justice. He will have his revenge.

“Who did this?!”

Andrea quivered, finding the strength to speak again.

“It was…” she hiccuped. “A man…”

“Who?!”

“It was…” the mental torture ravaged her.

“Who Andrea?!”

“It was made of metal,” she finally released. “A man made of metal.”

Rayshe went stiff. His body froze. His eyes pried opened.

“He killed her.”

A man made of metal. There was no mistaking it. The identity of his daughter’s killer was the machine. His name now a plague in his mind.

Rayshe dropped onto the curb, sitting down slowly and in shock. Beside him, Andrea screamed in agony.

His hands shook. His mind raced and fell silent at the same time. So much that he couldn’t decipher it. They killed her.

They killed her.

Denial

It can’t be. This can’t be real. This would never happen to Rayshe. It couldn’t. This was the complications of a lesser person. This can’t happen to him. He was more than this. He’s the president, he’s super human. No, he’s a god. Yes, he’s a god, and Maggie was his daughter. He’s a god, not a human. He didn’t abide by the same rules as them. This can’t happen to him. It didn’t. It can’t happen and it didn’t happen. Right? A man made of metal. It couldn’t have been him. It couldn’t have. It wasn’t. He wouldn’t do that. That’s too far. He’s a good person, just confused. He, no, it. It was his friend. At one point in this life it was his friend. He shook its hand, he watched as medals were adorned around its neck. It wouldn’t do this. Right?

Despair

Why? The only thing he truly loved in this world. Why? Why couldn’t it be anybody else? Why must he be subjected to this? To this torture. To this life no longer worth living. What other purpose does he have? This was it. His daughter. His Maggie. He was supposed to see her grow up. Grow old. She was supposed to have a life. She was supposed to bury him, not the other way around. What else is there left for Rayshe? Everything is worthless. His purpose has been robbed.

Rage

Hellish rage. Everyone will burn. Everything will burn. He won’t rest until it is done. He can’t. How could he? All encompassing fire consumed him, leaving not a speck of anything else. This was the life that he is subjected to? Fine. Then the world will know his wrath. They will feel his pain. Like a blaze out of control they all will burn. They killed his daughter. They deserve it. Those who did this. Those who did this…

Villainy.

They did this. That fucking machine and the rest of them. They killed her. After Rayshe let them live. He had them right there, cowering before them. Dead to rights in that fucking witch house. They’ve been out to destroy him. They probably had one of The Pieces in their back pocket. And he walked away. It all matches up. How did Rayshe not see it? Right under his nose. There he was thinking they were snooping around his estranged coworker. Thinking they didn’t know what they were doing. That they were confused. That they were chasing down the rabbit hole of curiosity. That they were incapable. Harmless, and misguided. The whole time, they were onto him. After him. They had The Piece from Nepal in the back pocket, on their way to track down the next one here in the NLV, and he missed it. He let them walk away. He let them live. He granted them mercy beyond his guts inclination. His wisdom was faulty. Now, he was behind two of three Pieces. But that didn’t matter to him right now. His daughter was dead. A man made of metal killed her. And they won’t stop there. They think they can stage some kind of rebellion. Are they really that naive? Do people really believe they could ever dare oppose a god? Do they?

Realization

Rayshe heads a country of terrorists. Traitors. They try to tear him down. They try to destroy his plans for greatness. They try to stop him from helping them. From the moment he took office, it was unrelenting. All day and all night they gathered outside his walls and chanted for his expulsion. They chanted for his prosecution. They wished for his destruction. They dare oppose a god… Rayshe hadn’t been seeing the full picture. It goes beyond the five traitors. Half of this country follows their lead. Are they working with them? Have they been organizing a coup? He had shown mercy for far too long. He showed mercy when he had every right and the perfect opportunity to end them. He thought he was fair. He thought he was right. He let them walk away, and now his daughter is dead. This won’t stand. He won't make that mistake again. Never.

Revenge

They won’t stop until they kill him. Maggie was only the start. These terrorists have no limits. It won’t stand. It won’t. Gone are the ways of mercy. Rayshe understands what must happen now. All those people that protest? All those people that think they know what’s best for themselves? All of those that fight against his loyal followers, the true and righteous? They must die. All. They must. They will. He will get his revenge. He will enact his vision. He will save this world. He will avenge his daughter.

TWO HOURS LATER

Rayshe stood behind the wooden podium. Lights shined down on him. Smoke and destruction still billowed from the once great city. Cameras and lens flicker blinded his pupils. Silent he stood. Press gathered around, waiting for his address.

”Behind me, is chaos,” he began. “Behind me is a massacre. Behind me, is symbolic of everything that is wrong with this country. I’m heartbroken that this is what it has come to. I really am. My condolences to the innocent lives that were lost today, as well as their families. But, I must explain why this happened. Who caused this. There are great people in this country. They know who they are, and they deserve to know. You deserve to know that the people who wish against a prosperous life for you and your family is not who you expect. You deserve to know that the terrorist who destroyed this city are of this land. You deserve to know, that there are so called Americans in this country, even your neighbors, even your coworkers, that wish to see you die.” Muttering arose from the crowd.

”Behind me you see chaos. Behind me you see a massacre. Behind me, you see the terrorist attack that claimed the life of my ten year old daughter.” A gasp escaped the spectators.

”It pains me that this happened. It pains me that I allowed this to happen. I delivered my plans for this country. I laid out my vision for a better future. I made my wishes clear of a better life for you, and an even better one for your sons and daughters. It seems there are those who don’t want that. And they are obvious to me now. You have seen them as well. They gather outside the White House every day, calling for my resignation. Calling for a stop to my dream. They fight in the streets to stop the believers, the true Americans that rally with me. Now look. Behind me you see chaos. Behind me you see a massacre. This is what they resorted to. I allowed this to happen. I chose the path of the merciful leader. I chose the direction of understanding. I chose the ideals of peacefulness. I chose, rather than respond to their violence with aggression, to send a message. To convey that my heart extended to them as well. That I viewed my doubters, my opposition, my adversaries, as family. That they were included in my vision. That they were equal. Family doesn’t do this to one another. My path of patience and understanding has lead to the loss of my daughter, and countless other lives. By the power vested in me, I will not allow this to happen again. I see now that those people are not apart of our family. They do not want to be. They are not our equals. They do not deserve to be apart of our vision. They wish to see us fall. I will not allow that to happen. To all my loyal followers, hear me now and hear me well. If we stand back any longer, if we allow this resistance any longer, they will crush us. They will see this country fall. They will see this world crumble. The message from this attack is clear, and this is how I will answer: Our forefathers spoke it true. A house divided against itself cannot stand. We cannot allow this division in our nation. And if they are choosing to take us down to achieve their agenda, so be it. On this day, I hear by declare war on the terrorists of this country. I call on all who support me, all who have my side. All of share the same vision of a better future. Rally together. Take to the streets. Fight back against these terrorists.”

The crowd erupted in shock.

”Allow me to speak candidly, not as a president, but as family. Behind me you see chaos. Behind me you see a massacre. This is what they want. And it is this they will get. I am not speaking lightly. We are at war. This is not a civil war. These people do not deserve to be Americans anymore. They are something else entirely. Disgraces upon our legacy. Abominations. Take up arms… and kill them.”

Frenzy broke out. Enraged and frightened spectators screamed out. Many fled. Others took the initiative right away, fighting amongst each other. The nation, thanks to Rayshe, has been plunged into a massive civil war. Blood will flow in the streets. Towns will burn. This will be what brings the world to its knees. This will be the reckoning of mankind. Will there be anything left when it’s all said and done?

”Hear me and hear me well,” Rayshe yelled again. “Kill them. Kill them all.”