When those Immigration pieces of shit showed up, I fought, I screamed, I cursed, and I even tried to kill myself before they could grab me.
But there were so many of them that I couldn't do anything; they threw me to the ground, grabbed me by my hands and feet, and put a Bephelometh collar on my neck.
"You sons of a bitch!" I screamed and writhed as hard as I could, but they said nothing. They just kept hitting me all over and pinned me down so I'd stop moving. "I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna kill you!"
And even as I writhed, they dragged me toward their cop cars, and I watched as they took me further away from Katya's grave.
"FUCK ALL OF YOU! I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU ALL!" I tried to gather all my magic, but I couldn't. I grabbed the necklace and tried to pull it off, but I could barely move my hand—it was completely destroyed.
They put me in the back of their car and took off.
I could only watch through the window as her grave grew smaller and smaller, until I could no longer see it.
Goodbye, Katya. But we'll see each other again soon.
I glared at those fucking cops.
"Pieces of shit," I said, but they didn't pay me no mind. "They only got me 'cause there's a whole bunch of you—but one-on-one, I'd kick the shit out of every single one of you."
They didn't give a fuck about that.
Then I looked at Herobert. That son of a bitch didn't do shit when they came. He just surrendered right away.
"You're a such fucking idiot," I said. "Didn't you think they'd betray you? What a fucking fool. If everyone betrayed you when they throwed you in prison, did you really think they wouldn't betray you again? You'd made it this far—you could've just built a life for yourself, you asshole. But no, you had to come and fuck things up for me. And I didn't do shit to you this time, you dick! I didn't do shit to you!" I lunged at him, ready to beat the shit outta him, but those fucking cops stopped me. "I was doing just fine! I wanted to be with her! I didn't have any beef with you anymore! I didn't do shit to you!… But you know what? I'm so fucking glad they caught you too—and they're never letting you out. You're gonna rot in fucking prison. And it's all 'cause you're so fucking dumb. All because you're so fucking stupid!"
Herobert didn't say anything to me. He just kept his head bowed.
What an idiot.
But if there was anyone who really pissed me off back then, it was those fucking cops.
"Assholes," I told them again and they couldn't give less of a fuck.
We got to the immigration center right away. They took my fingerprints, and I popped up in their database. It probably said I was a terrorist, that all those assholes from Saint Money were hunting me down and who knows what else. Everyone there freaked the fuck out when they found out who I was. Some even took photos with me, though I'm not sure if they did it to brag that they'd caught me, or because they were fans of my work.
Then they put me and Herobert in a cell while they spoke with Tantrum to send us back to Saint Money.
"I'm sorry," that Herobert piece of shit said to me, after not saying shit for a while.
"And how does that help me?"
He didn't say anything else to me; he just kept looking at the ground.
"And besides, why did you have to drag me into your fucking mess? The beef was between you and Tantrum. Why did you have to bring me along? Why couldn't you have just disobeyed him for once in your fucking life?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe I deserve to be here."
"And what about me, you asshole? You didn't have to drag me into your bullshit. What a way to fuck things up."
"I'm sorry."
Some Saint Money's cops and soldiers came immediately and took us away with them.
"I know you," I said to one of them. I didn't remember his name, but I did remember his aura. I was sure that he had worked for me.
But he just played dumb and didn't say anything to me.
They put us on the plane they used to get there and took us to Saint Money. As we flew, I remembered what had happened to me after Herobert set me free—back when I was still with the clown gang.
You might think I was happy that he'd saved me, but the truth is, I was very confused. Although I'd never seen him before, I recognized his uniform—it was the hero's. The hero worked for Tantrum, and Tantrum worked with Darius—the man who had betrayed me by sending me on the mission where I'd been captured.
Why, then, did he save me? Darius wanted me dead, and Tantrum couldn't care less about me. So why had he sent his hero to save me?
I later found out that Herobert disobeyed Tantrum to save me and the others, and he almost got fired for it.
I wonder if Herobert knows that I was one of the people he saved that day, and if he ever thought about how, if he'd just let me die back then, he would've spared himself a whole lot of trouble.
Anyway, the point is that he used his magic to heal almost all of our wounds—mine and the others'—and took us to the hospital. I kept telling him over and over that I was fine and that I needed to leave 'cause I knew full well that as soon as Darius found out I was still alive, he'd send someone to kill me. But that fucking Herobert just wouldn't let me go.
Once at the hospital, the doctors took me to a room where they bandaged me up, hooked me up to an IV, and attached all sorts of wires to me. While they were doing this, I sensed several very powerful auras approaching. There was a knock at the door, and a nurse opened it. It was a group of Darius's right-hand men, disguised as police officers.
"We just want to ask a few questions," they said while trying to enter, but the nurses stepped in front of them and wouldn't let them through.
And while they and the nurses were shoving each other, I pulled off all the cables I had in my body, opened the window, and threw myself out. Then I used a bit of magic before hitting the floor—just so I didn't fucking die—and took off running. Naturally, the right hands started following me. I ran through several streets, still wearing my hospital gown, and let them get closer little by little. Once they were right on top of me, I turned a corner and teleported back to the hospital. I appeared in my room, and there was no one there anymore. I immediately hid my aura so the right hands wouldn't find me, grabbed my clothes, changed, and teleported to Darius's hideout.
If some of his right-hand men were looking for me, it was the perfect time to kill him.
I appeared in his office right in front of him, and the four right-hand men who were there shit themselves when they saw me and prepared their best spells.
"Good thing you're here, Dark. I was waiting for you," but Darius was so calm. He even got up from his chair, walked over to some shelves where he kept several bottles, grabbed one, and poured himself a glass. "How did the mission go? Did you take out that gang leader?"
"Yeah, you asshole. Now it's your turn," I said, and that piece of shit just stared at me, confused.
"If you want me to pay you for that right now, just let me know. We're not going to fight over that shit." He went back to his desk and sat down, acting as if nothing had happened.
"You can't fool me. You sent me there to get killed."
"And why would I kill my strongest clown?" he asked me, while drinking what he had poured for himself.
"Fuck you, you even sent some of your right hands to the hospital to kill me.
"No" —he stood up from his chair and pretended to be offended—, "I just sent them to ask you what had happened with the mission."
"You could have sent anyone for that, but instead you sent your strongest men. You wanted me dead, you fuck. Say it!"
"And did they actually try to kill you? Tell me: did they do anything to you?"
That's when I hesitated. They hadn't done anything to me.
"See?" He stepped toward me and put his arm around me. "If I kill you, who do I replace you with? One of these guys?" He pointed at the right-hand men standing there with him. "You're the biggest advantage I have over the other gangs—why would I kill you? With you, we can expand everywhere; we can take down Alpha, Killroy, Lucy. Why would I get rid of my trump card? You're just too stron—
"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled at him. "Don't you feel any shame humiliating yourself like this, you dumbass?! You're supposed to be the leader—and what do you do?! You start praising the fuck outta one of your own men just so he doesn't kill you! Unbelievable! I don't know why anyone followed you for so long!"
At that moment, I saw his smile vanish. He let go of me and ran off. His right-hand men threw their most powerful spells at me as Darius left the office. I teleported behind them and cast a spell at one of them, shattering the back of his neck and half his head. The others turned around, and as they did, I struck another one with a spell that tore his chest apart.
Of the two right-hand men who remained, one threw his most powerful spell at me, and I swatted it back at him. It shattered one of his arms and he fell to the ground, screaming in pain.
The other right-hand man was scared shitless and tried to escape, but I cast a spell at his back that tore a hole right through him.
I approached the one who had lost an arm.
"Don't be a pussy," I said, showing him my hands, all bandaged up. "They tore off who knows how many of my fingers, and I'm not crying about it."
I threw a spell right in his face and killed him.
I sensed Darius's aura moving toward where we had the vans, so I teleported there.
He saw me and was scared shitless, along with all the assholes who were following him.
"You know what's the funniest thing of all?" I asked him. "That I wasn't gonna kill you. If you hadn't betrayed me, I would have being your right-hand man for who knows how long."
"You can still be one, if you want," he pleaded. "If you want, I'll even pay you double what I was paying you—no sweat. Or, you know what? You can keep the gang, just let me go."
"Oh, the gang's already mine," I said, stepping toward him. He tried to run, but I cast a spell that shattered his leg. He fell to the ground. I stood beside him as he crawled. "But you tried to kill me—and if I don't punish you for that, my men will think I'm weak and turn against me."
So I got down on my knees, grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head, and slammed his face against the ground. He screamed, and his face became covered in blood. I slammed it again—and again, and again. I kept on slamming it even when he stopped making any sound and his face was nothing more than a mass of red flesh. I let go of him and saw the gold chain he always wore. I took it off him. It had a gold skull on it. It was as if he had carried death with him wherever he went.
I looked up and gazed at all the clowns who were there. None of them did anything to help Darius, and they were all staring at me with fear. Death hung over every one of them.
"From this moment on, we're no longer clowns. We are Death, because we bring it wherever we go. At any moment, someone could kill us—and we are where we are because we kill.
"Death has given us everything we have, and one day it will take it all away.
"Take off that shitty clown makeup and paint yourselves like skulls instead, so you don't forget that you are what you are because of death."
After that, Death grew bigger and bigger—and would have grown even more if Herobert hadn't appeared and fucked it all up. It happened so many times that I started to think that if I could just get the power of friendship, I might be able to beat him.