”Can you feel that?
Ah shit…
Drowning deep in my sea of loathing
Broken your servant I kneel
Will you give in to me?
It seems what’s left of my human side
Is slowly changing… in me
Will you give in to me?”

Two steps forward and I smack him hard in the head with the butt of my gun.
And he kneels down howling in pain.
A little red spot slowly forms beside his left temple and I am quite satisfied.
I am breathing heavily as the image of John James Sanders mixes with Carmen’s smile, Carmen’s eyes looking at me.
With Carmen’s code blue.
Sanders is pressing a dirty hand against the wound on his head.
Just like Carmen pressed her delicate hand against her re-opened scar, after making love with me.
“Ok Johnny boy…”, I say. “…Now you’re being reasonable”.
“What the fuck do you want from me?”, he croaks, grimacing and trying hard to look at me.
I move a step back.
“First of all. Say another word about Carmen, and your brains will paint the wall behind you. Am I understood?”.
He doesn’t answer. He just rubs his bloody hand against his jeans.
“I take your silence as a yes”, I mutter.
“Then, I want you to do something for me. But before that, I have a question…”, I continue.
He licks his lips again and, for the very first time, he seems really scared.
Not surprised.
Not arrogant.
Just scared.
“Why?”, I ask, coldly.
“Why? Why what?”, he asks back.
“Why did you shoot her. She wasn’t menacing you. She didn’t do anything”.
He swallows and tries unsuccessfully to get up.
“Don’t move. Just tell me why”, I stop him.
He raises his head towards me.
“Is that your question?”.
“You’re such a putrid little prick. Tell me why”, I spit out.
John James Sanders stares at me and shrugs.
“…Why not?”.

”Looking at my own reflection,
When suddenly it changes,
Violently it changes!
Oh no! There is no turning back now
You’ve woken up the demon… in me”

“Johnny boy, heat up your drug”, I say with a sigh.
His eyebrows furrow in lack of understanding.
I load the gun.
Bullet in the barrel.
And he pales.
“Come on… I am sure this is what you want the most. Take that fucking lighter and heat up the spoon”, I urge him.
Swallowing anxiously, he grabs the drug paraphernalia from the floor.
“There is a little trip waiting for you…”, I add, half-smiling.
“What do you have in mind?”, he asks, trembling slowly.
“I am not familiar with guns. I just want to be sure… Add some drug”.
His lips part in a sudden awareness.
With shaking hands, he put some more powder into the spoon.
“Good boy. Heat it up”.
There is nothing I feel, now.
There is no fear.
The dull pain, well… It’s locked in a drawer, for now.
There is nothing I feel with the exception of a warm anticipation.
“Do you want me to O.D.?”, John James Sanders asks feebly.
I nod, blinking.
Smiling.
“Yes. I want you to O.D.”, I answer, softly. “And when you’ll be O.D.ing, I will shoot you. Just to make sure you die”.
His watery eyes glance at me, wordless.