Kill the King (19 page)

“You killed
Frank Metzger in his own castle while his knights were on a
crusade. He trusted you—even liked you—and you killed him anyways.
Not only that, you made a very powerful statement out of his death
as well. Very impressive, my son. . .very impressive indeed!”

Marko smiled
and clapped slowly in admiration.

“I only wish
you had told me first about your plan. I would have happily given
you my blessing. But please, tell me. . .why now?”

Tyler’s face
was grim. The world was more horrible than he once thought it to
be. The old woman was right. There was no justice to be had, no
matter how hard he fought for it.

“Does it really
matter?”

“When you and
Khaled hanged him in front of their lair, you gave them all they
needed for open war—
a martyr.
Today they’re licking their
wounds and burying their hero. Tomorrow, they will come for us. The
city will look like my homeland did during the bad days. I know it.
I can feel it in my bones! You’ve brought a
war
to our
doorstep, my boy. . .the least you can do is give me a fucking
explanation. Is that so much to ask for?”

Tyler fidgeted
with impatience but opted to provide an explanation
nonetheless.

“I killed Frank
because I thought he was responsible for murdering someone very
dear to me. . .I thought maybe they wanted to get back at me for
the things I’ve done. I was wrong. I should have known it all
along. . .only
you
could have been behind it.”

The cellar
walls echoed Tyler’s last statement. He waved his knife around, no
longer afraid of Marko’s wrath. It was all coming to an end.

“That’s why I’m
here, Marko. I’m only here for the vengeance. I’m not here to kill
you to uphold my side of the deal with Dr. Nieuwendyk. Not anymore.
Now that you’ve told me about your partnership with her, I can’t
for the life of me figure out why she’d want me to kill you. This
has turned out to be a
very
bad week for me and maybe the
coke is keeping me from thinking really clearly about all of this.
. .but really, I just don’t give a
fuck
anymore. Fuck you,
fuck the Block, and fuck this cruel, unfair world. I’m a tired man,
Marko. I just want to kill you and disappear.”

Marko grabbed
his second bottle of wine, took a gulp, and smashed it across
Tyler’s face. It was all done in a fluid series of motions. He was
just too quick. A series of punishing blows to Tyler’s head and
abdomen followed, along with a solid headbutt to ensure that Tyler
stayed sitting on the cold solid floor.

“You stupid,
impudent
fucking boy! All this for a woman? A fucking
woman?
How
dare
you come here and kill your brothers.
. .all for a woman! How
dare
you kill Frank Metzger and
start a war with the Fourteens behind my back, all for a woman! How
dare you come here to try to kill me
—your father!—
for a
woman. . .a common fucking
whore!”

Marko knelt
down to Tyler’s level, his fist bloodied and trembling. In spite of
his anger, his heart was full of pity. He helped Tyler get back to
his feet and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Tyler was too
weak and hurt to resist.

“My poor,
foolish son. When will you learn? When will you understand? You
can’t
kill me. No one can. That’s my punishment until the
end of time. I’m
cursed,
my boy. . .and so are
you.”

Tyler released
himself from Marko’s grasp and shoved him onto Artan’s corpse.

“No! I’m not
like you, Marko. I didn’t choose this life. . .it chose me.
Everything was supposed to be different here in the West. I wasn’t
supposed to live this way. I’ve done what I’ve done to
survive—
to live.
I had no choice.”

“That’s right,
my boy. . .you didn’t choose the life you’ve lived and yet you’ve
embraced it wholeheartedly, have you not? Some men are born to
build and to create. Some men are born to destroy. You and I, we
are the destroyers. We’re the dragons—
the
monsters
.
It’s not our choice to make, my boy. It never was. It’s our
destiny
. . .mine and yours.”

Tyler picked up
the kitchen knife and knelt to confront Marko, pointing it at
Marko’s heart. He wondered if it was possible to pierce something
that might not be human.

“Why, Marko?
Why couldn’t you just let her go? Why couldn’t you just go after
me?”

“I didn’t kill
that poor woman, Tyler. . .
you
did. You should have left her
all the money you stole and forced her to leave without you. Every
moment you shared with her was a moment you put her life in danger.
You shared your curse with her, just like I did with my wife and
daughter. They’re dead because of me, and now she is dead because
of
you!
We always kill the ones closest to us!”

Tyler grabbed
Marko by the lapel of his shirt and made a long cut at his
clavicle, then sliced off a piece of his earlobe. He was going to
take his time with his vengeance.

“
Forgive the
blood.
That’s what you like to say, right Marko? Well then, how
about
this
blood? Are you so easy to forgive
this
blood?”

Tyler carved a
long line down Marko’s right forearm and sliced open his thumb.
Though Marko might not be able to die, he certainly felt pain. His
screams were enough to prove it.

“
Forgive the
blood,
Marko! What about
my
forgiveness? What makes you
think I could
ever
forgive you? You say you’re my father?
What kind of father would make his son do the things that I’ve
done? Where were you when I was locked away. . .when I needed you
the most? I was all alone in there, Marko. . .for
years.
Where were you, Marko?
Where were you?”

In spite of the
pain of his injuries, Marko would not go down. He grabbed Tyler by
the throat and flipped him to the side. He gained the dominant
position and began to strangle Tyler with his bare hands. As he
tightened his grip, his fresh cuts dribbled blood on Tyler’s
face.

“Everything you
are, it is thanks to me.
Me!
You were an orphan, unloved by
the world. I spared your life and raised you the only way I knew
how.”

Tyler’s eyes
rolled into the back of his head. His hands tapped on the floor
around him, desperately searching for the knife.

“Every day, I
prayed to God for your return. All these years, and my prayers were
answered at last. My son comes back. . .only to bring
death and
destruction
to everything he touches! God has sent my own son
to torment me!”

Tyler’s eyes
turned red from the pressure around his throat. He gave up looking
for the knife. His heartbeat slowed down to a faint pace.

“My boy. . .my
son. . .”

Marko let go of
his grip and rose back to his feet. He grabbed bottles from the
rack and threw them across the room to smash on the walls. He
screamed with every throw.

“I can’t do it!
I can’t do it! I can’t kill you. . .I can’t kill my son!”

Tyler gasped
and gagged as the blood flowed back to his brain and the air flowed
back into his lungs. Marko rolled him to his stomach and pat him on
his back. His voice was sad and broken.

“My son. . .I
forgive you. I still forgive the blood. Are you satisfied now with
trying to kill me? Do you now understand why they call me
The
Man who Refuses to Die
? No one can kill me. Not even you. . .no
more than you can escape what you are.”

Tyler rested on
his hands and knees, not yet able to get back to his feet by
himself. He spit on the ground beneath him and weakly pushed Marko
away.

“No. . .I don’t
want to be like this anymore. I don’t want any of this.”

“We don’t
choose our destiny, my son. We can only accept it. Make peace with
your destiny and stand by my side again. It’s where you belong. .
.it’s where you’ve
always
belonged.”

Tyler stood on
one knee with his hands on the ground to help him maintain his
balance. His face was bruised and bloodied. He was nearly mute from
the throttling and strained to speak at all.

“I’m not going
back, Marko. I’m not going back.”

“To prison? No,
my son. . .you will never see another cell again. Dr. Nieuwendyk
and her dog Rickards will suffer for what they’ve done, and we’ll
crush the Fourteens. What I’ve built with sweat, you and I will
defend with blood. . .and the streets will run red.”

Tyler closed
his eyes and though of his mother.

What would she
think of her grown son now?

“Together, we
will bring this city to its knees. Will you help me, Tyler?”

His thoughts
turned to Gloria.

Could she ever
forgive me?

“My son. .
.speak to me. Please.”

Gloria was
still on his mind. He hung his head low, his eyes still closed.

I’m sorry,
Gloria.

Tyler rose to
his feet and stood eye-to-eye in front of Marko. The
eyes of the
dragon
were no longer there for him to fear. He could see
through them at long last.

“You’re right.
You were always right. I can’t change what I am.”

Marko nodded in
satisfaction.

“Remember this
day, my son. Today is the day you become the
prince
you were
meant to be all along. . and someday you will become the
king
that you are destined to be.”

Marko grabbed
Tyler and embraced him. All was forgiven.

“Come, my son.
I will get my doctor to come tend to our wounds. You will call the
cleaners; tell them Artan went mad and tried to kill me. You saved
me and killed him with his own knife. If they value their lives,
they won’t ask any questions.”

“And what then.
. .
father?”

The words felt
sincere for once. Marko noticed.

“We have a war
to wage. We have a partnership to end. We have an empire to build.
There is much work to be done, my boy. There’s always more work to
be done.”

Tyler
reluctantly agreed. Marko was right about these things. He was
always right.

“I’ll get
Cabrini over right away. We should let him and the other cleaners
take some of the bottles you have down here. It’s a much bigger
mess upstairs.”

Marko smiled.
“You’re already thinking like a king.”

****

“You never
apologized, you know. You never asked for my forgiveness; you stole
from me. You lied to me. You tried to kill me to save yourself. You
betrayed me and your family. . .and everywhere you went, death
followed you like a shadow.”

Marko was
getting some much-needed rest in his bed. His face, limbs and torso
had plenty of bandages and stiches to accompany the other old scars
that zigzagged across his bare torso. There were no falsehoods in
Marko’s stories. Tyler long suspected that they were even worse
than what Marko told him and everyone else. It was sometimes better
for everyone to pretend that some monsters didn’t exist. . .
otherwise even the cruelest of men could never find sleep.

“Before I ask
for your forgiveness, I need to ask one last thing of you.”

“Go on, my
son.”

Peace or
vengeance.

“I have one
more loose end to tie up. I need your blessing. I can’t go on until
it’s done.”

Marko’s face
darkened. He knew exactly what Tyler implied.

“It is noble to
forgive the blood, my son. I have done so for you. . .maybe you
should do the same, if only for this one time. There is already so
much blood and sorrow. You’ve already lost someone so dear to you.
Is it really worth it?”

Peace or
vengeance.

Tyler pursed
his lips, and placed his hand on Marko’s chest.

“Yes. I need to
do this. Please forgive me for all I’ve done to you. . .and please
forgive me for what I have to do. There’s no other way.”

Both men
exchanged woeful glances. Marko closed his eyes and sighed before
extending his hand out to his son.

“I forgive you.
I forgive the blood. Now go, my son. . .do what you must. No one
can stop you. Not me. . .not even God himself.”

Tyler stood
outside the gates of St. Jude’s Cemetery, alone among the dead. His
presence stuck out amid the endless rows of stone monuments that
marked the final resting places of the dearly departed like a
scarecrow guarding a cornfield. He couldn’t sleep and had opted to
spend some time outside to clear his head instead. The cemetery
seemed an apt enough place to find a bit of peace and quiet before
things would get worse. It had been a harrowing week, yet far worse
dangers were lurking just around the corner. He felt it deep in his
bones.

He flicked away
his second cigarette and lit up a third right afterwards without
skipping a beat. The clicking of his lighter was the only audible
sound amidst the silence that surrounded him. There was no wind to
rustle the trees and only a few weak streetlights to keep the
darkness from completely consuming him and the occupants of St.
Jude’s. He looked up at the sky as the smoke drifted upwards into
the black and grey above him. It was still an hour or two before
daybreak, and the first snows of the season had just arrived. He
watched the snow fall softly around him as it searched for a place
to land. The ones that fell on him felt faint and gentle on his
face, like the tender caresses of a lost love. The sensation felt
so soothing and yet so sad.

A flash of
headlights could be seen from down the street. Tyler had been
patiently waiting for this moment.

Peace or
vengeance.

The car pulled
into the cemetery’s parking lot. Tyler could tell it was brand new
and expensive. Out came the driver, shivering from the cold.

“Good morning,
my friend. Is it winter already? Fuck, man. . . it’s not supposed
to snow for another couple of weeks. I hate this shit!”