Chapter 31: Trivia

He was placed in a chair in front of the empty desk. The bruise on his forehead had gotten a band aid, and the wound in his leg had been sufficiently stitched up - without painkillers though. It itched and hurt, but it was nothing compared to the fear that resided within him at present. The dim light from the light bulb ahead showered the naked stone walls and the room held memories too terrible to imagine. Nail marks and dark patches on the floor witnessed that some horrific scenes had taken place in there, and he was trapped in it.

The door went up and Vladimir stepped in followed by Thomas. The door closed behind them and Vladimir went to the table where he put down a small suitcase which he opened. It contained a small glass container, a syringe, a rubber band and latex gloves. He looked over the top of the suitcase with a sly smile. His grey eyes gleamed threateningly contend in the dim illumination as he put on the gloves.

"Now, tell me your name," he began as he uncapped the glass container and drew the transparent liquid into the syringe. Petyr tore his gaze away from the syringe.

"Petyr Van Abelan," he said quietly and tore his eyes from Vladimir's hands that worked with great expertise. Thomas scribbled it down on a notepad.

"So, you were present at the warehouse where we found evidence that you prepared the attack on Darklighter Tower?"

"Who says I was involved?" Petyr asked sharply. "Maybe I was just there at the wrong time?"

"I don't think so," said Vladimir. "We've compared prints of what we found in the warehouse to those fingerprint samples that you've just given us, and the match is perfect."

Petyr remained silent. Vladimir put the glass container away and went to the chair. Petyr was strapped to the armrests with leather bindings, and Vladimir had no trouble fastening the rubber band around Petyr's upper arm.

"Now, I suggest you tell me the truth or you'll have a shot of this into the blood-stream. It works around the same as poison but your DNA will change and be unidentifiable. So when your body is found - given the situation that you won't cooperate - nobody will miss you. Not even your teeth will give off a sample usable for analysis."

Petyr stared at the syringe and swallowed hard before looking away again. "We were twenty people or so," he said. "We're not supposed to know each other's names so I don't know who were there, but there weren't any humans."

"And you're a... what, demon?"

"No, I'm not of this world's supernatural society," he answered. "I'm an imp, but my masters granted me a more natural body for my purposes here."

"So, who are your masters?" Vladimir's eyes narrowed.

"I can't tell you."

"Who informed you about the Darklighter Tower? How did you know about the security measures?" Vladimir asked more insistent.

"A guy. I don't know his name. Insider I think," Petyr said heavily.

"Think again," Vladimir readied the syringe. "I wouldn't work with someone I didn't know. You must know at least one name."

"There was someone," Petyr began as he saw the needle point being raised; it gleamed unpleasantly. "Ivry Pershia. She's the one who gathered us all in the first place. Her name is on my laptop on a mail."

Thomas scribbled the name down.

"So... you said there was also an insider. Do you know what rank he has? Agent, lawyer, Axi'Rôs?" Vladimir asked.

"No idea. We just met in Liberty."

"The same place where you met Agribel Phoenix Darklighter?"

"The very same, but not at the same occasion," Petyr answered truthfully. "I was on the look-out for people whom I could ask for a favour."

"And did you plan on telling them who you worked for?"

"I did. He knows."

"So if we find him, he'd know."

"Yes."

"But you know too."

"I do."

"Then tell us."

"I can't!"

Vladimir smacked a fist into Petyr's jaw. He coughed blood and spat out one of the pointed teeth. He glared angrily at Vladimir.

"Tell me!" Vladimir bellowed.

"I won't tell you shit!" Petyr tried to fight the leather bindings, but another fist collided with his cheekbone this time, and sent him to the floor, body and chair. Vladimir walked around him and pulled him back up by the collar, almost strangling him.

"I'd advise you to tell me," he hissed into his ear. "Or else this is going to be a very long conversation."

Petyr tried to focus but his eyes swam in his skull. "I'm not telling anything!" he said dizzily.

"All right!" Vladimir pushed the table aside and stood in front of the bruised prisoner. With a snap of his fingers a thin layer of ice began stretching across Petyr's fingertips, freezing the very flesh of his body. He stared at the ice spreading over his hands and screamed at the pain.

"Do you know now?" Vladimir asked. Petyr wriggled and writhed in the chair, moaning and hissing in pain.

"No!" he said through clenched teeth. The ice crawled further up his arms and he panted frantically.

"Still nothing?"

"The... the Butterfly Order!" he said finally. The ice disappeared almost as fast as it had appeared. He bent over and vomited on the floor.

"Gooood boy," Vladimir smiled. "So you disguised yourself as S.M.E., we already figured that much. But why S.M.E.?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Petyr asked, the bile dripping from his lips and chin. Sweat hailed from his forehead and he was trembling from the cold. "We thought you'd go for them."

"Obviously, you're not as bright as your masters thought you were when they hired you," Vladimir said. "Good," he glanced at Thomas who, with a nod, left the room. Vladimir looked back at Petyr. "I guess it's time." He took the syringe and pierced the skin on the bared arm. Petyr exploded with fury and tried to fight the best he could but there was nothing he could do. The poison seared through his veins, visible on the outside like dark lines forming all over his body. He began to cough and vomited again, this time it was black. He opened his eyes and a black film stretched across them. His skin turned ashen grey and he stiffened. Dead.

Vladimir took off the gloves and packed the syringe back into the suitcase before leaving the room, informing the soldiers outside to clean up the body and throw it into the furnaces in the lower levels of the catacombs.

He went through the basement and arrived at the administration building where he handed in the suitcase at the reception and continued through the main building and to the east wing where he made his way to the glass hall, a hall full of mirrors and glass sculptures and modern minimalist furniture. Through the windows there was a splendid view over the glass garden and the terrace around it. Beyond lay the gardens themselves.

He found Matthew lying on a long couch staring out of the windows. The light was dim, the weather was cloudy, and the sky was steel grey; the rain fell gently like a misty curtain enveloping the world.

He stopped by the doorway leading into the glass hall and tapped the door to signal his entrance before he stepped closer. Matthew sat up with a graceful move and rose.

"Ah, Vladimir, did you get anything?" he asked. Vladimir nodded.

"Ivry Pershia, presumably a Butterfly, gathered twenty people to do this little trick. S.M.E. was merely a cover-up. But there's something else," Vladimir hesitated. "He said that there was an insider. He had met him at Liberty."

Matthew moistened his lips and turned away to walk through the hall quietly. His eyes wandered here and there before he stopped at a massive mirror at the end wall. He looked into it, seeing his own reflection and Vladimir's. He stood for a short second without a word when he suddenly smashed his fist into the mirror. Shards flew everywhere like sparks of fireworks flying through the air. They grazed his skin and drew blood, but the wounds closed themselves straight away. The light in the room dimmed instantly, like thicker clouds had devoured the sun completely and shadows emanated from the corners of the room to try and calm their master down. They gathered at his feet where the darkness licked across the white floor like lines of ink spilling over a white sheet of paper as if someone had toppled over an ink bottle.

He seemed to grow like a shadow stretching over the wall, his face contorted and the eyes had an unspecific colour: completely black but the pupil had turned the same icy blue as the iris usually was. A sneer on the lips bared the teeth that had all changed sharp and pointed, longer than normal teeth as well, a jaw of a dragon it seemed.

"Matthew..." Vladimir's voice called him back to reality and the vision disappeared right away.

"Send Adam for me," Matthew said darkly and turned around. His eyes, now normal again, were keen and clear like razor blades. Vladimir had to look away.

"I shall," he said and left.