My gun to the back of his skull I tell him to beg for his life. To give a single reason as to why I should have mercy on his soul.
He kneals in silence not sure how serious this moment is. I assume he thinks this is nothing more than an armed robbery and that my threat is hollow and nothing more than an attempt to make him fear me more. I pull the hammer of my pistol back in a slow motion to draw out the sound. The hammer click of a Desert Eagle has it’s way of playing with your mind.
“Ohh God, NO! Please! DON’T KILL ME!! JUST TAKE MY WALLET! MY KEYS! ANYTHING DON’T KILL!!”
I till my head at his response. I’m sure he can fell the slight twist of the barrel in his hair. “God? What makes you think I, am God? I am the further things from this imagery being you refer to as “God.”
He stutters a response, “Who-who- whoever you are, please, just dont kill me.”
His voice is now filled with fear. He’s started to choke on his words as he begins to cry. I look to my partner and smile, I think quickly redirect my gun and unload three rounds into his chest.
“NO!” My hostage screams. I chuckle to myself, “That was Frank, I kind of liked Frank. What’s your name?
“Martin! Martin Pennyworth!” he blurts out.
“Well Martin, today can go one of two different ways. One way ends with you laying here, in this room, facedown, in a puddle of your own blood, with some brain matter in the mix. The other way, if you can convince me, ends with you leaving here. I can say I still won’t shoot you, but it won’t be fatal.”
“Please! Tell me what do I have to do!” Martin pleads.
The barrel of the gun now pressing back on his skull, “Tell me about your oh so merciful God, and make it good!” I pull the hammer back once more.
“But, I’m not a man of God! I-I-I!”
“You screamed his name yet, you are a non-believer of him. Is that what I’m hearing Martin?”
“NO!!” Martin corrects himself, “I believe, I-I-I just don’t read the bible or go to church.”
“So why did you yell his name? Did you think he would enter this room? Come here to protect you? To punish me for my evil and sins?” I force the barrel more into his skull as his now cries openly. Tears running down this face, snot bubbling in his nose. The face of name who knows his fate yet is not ready to accept it.
“Mr. Pennyworth, I ask you a question!” The anger can be heard building in my voice.
“I DON’T KNOW!” Martin breaks his sentence sobbing, “It’s human! It’s what we do!”
“Mr. Pennyworth, give me you wallet.”
He quickly scrambles across his pockets in the hunt for his wallet. He retrieves it and hands it back to me, trembling in fear, terror, desperation, or maybe a mixture of the three. With my free hand I reach for the wallet. I also relive some of the pressure on the gun.
I flip open his wallet and being to dissect it’s contents
A drivers licence which I keep, something of a souvenir if you will.
Several debit and credit cards.
“BINGO!” I yell out. “Mr Pennyworth of 18604 West 63rd street. Tell me about this adorable family of yours, and how this ‘God’ plans to protect them from me”
“No, no, no, no, no, no! Please leave my family out of this. This has nothing to do with them!”
“Oh but Mr. Pennyworth it has everything to do with them. For you see, if you die here today, Little Martin will grow up without positive male role model in his life. In fact twenty years from now he may be where I stand now. And you would’t want that now would we? No tell me,” I pause for a moment and take a breath before I say gritting my teeth “How with ‘GOD’ protect them from me!”
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” He pleads. “WHY ARE YOU-“
Before his can finish I should him in the right shoulder. He cries out in agonizing pain as he falls to the floor under him. I walk around him and feet near his head as he squirms around in pain.
“ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION MARTIN!” I scream towering above him, “HOW WILL GOD PROTECT YOUR FAMILY FROM ME!?”
“HE WON’T!” escapes from his lips as he holds his arm. Pain shooting across his face. I can see the colour of blood overtaking the green of his shirt.
“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”
A take a deep breath and look to the ceiling staring in to light. I look down on Martin Pennyworth wondering what to do with him. Should I leave him here? Should I kill him?
“Mr. Pennyworth, if lets say, this God does for all we know exist, why doesn’t he protect you, your family, and others like you, from evil, like me?”
Martin curls into a ball on the floor at my feet, crying deeply now.
“He can’t.” he says between sobs, “There is too much evil in this world for him to do so.”
“Evil like me?”
Martin nods his head still holding his shoulder. He shirt now soaked in his blood. The smell of his blood is in the air now. The smell and taste of it.
“Mr. Pennyworth, I have one last question for you. If your answer pleases me, I’ll leave you here, alive. But if it does not, you will die.”
I glance of hope flashes across his face. The idea that he may yet leave here alive.
“Mr. Pennyworth what have you learned this evening. In this 5 life changing minutes. What. Have. You. Learned.” I squat down next to him and pull the hammer back and press the barrel of the gun against his temple.
He cries as he collects his thoughts. Trying to think of the answer that will save his life.
“I’ve…I’ve learned this world,” he pauses sobbing hard, ” will always have darkness and evil that God cannot protect you from. Please!”
I dig the barrel into his temples still not satisfied with his answer
“AND THAT ONLY I CAN PROTECT MYSELF FROM EVIL! THAT I’M BETTER THAN YOU! FOR YOU HAVE GIVEN INTO TO EVIL AND I HAVE NOT!”
“Bravo, Mr. Pennyworth!” I remove my gun from this temple. He still cowers under me still fearing for this life. I reach my hand to his face and cover his eyes before turning him to face me. I bring me gun to this face. I tilt my wrist ever so slightly and fire.
He screams in fear, and in his confusion I exit the room leaving his drivers licence on the floor.