8–The Devil's Work

GUSTAVO

“Tell me what Eduardo is up to,” I say.

Taime and I captured one of his higher ups. We have him tied up in the office’s basement, where the dirty work takes place. It’s insulated, and no one will hear his screams of agony. And there are many screams of pain that take place down here.

Taime rips the duct tape from his mouth.

“Fuck you, man!” the man says, then spits at me.

“I thought you’d say that. Again.” I walk over to the cabinets lining the basement wall. “What shall we do about this?”

I already know what I’m going to do, but I pull each drawer out slowly. The slower I move, the higher this man’s heartrate, and the more likely he’ll talk.

I grab the thin slices of bamboo and I see Taime look the other way. He isn’t one for torture. Taime can kill a roomful of people in less than three minutes, but he prefers headshots. It’s quick, it’s easy, it gets the job done.

I’m blessed with a different skillset. When I torture people, there’s no remorse. I feel no emotion as people scream from pain and beg for their lives.

I change my mind at the last minute and grab a hammer and nails. I’ll mix things up a bit. Bamboo is one of my favorites, but I’ll spice it up. I turn around and the man sees what’s in my hand. The chair clacks on the floor as he tries to escape, but the zip ties we have around his limbs prevent him from going anywhere.

I motion for Taime to hold the plank under his hand. There’s no hesitation as I take the hammer and pound the nail into the center of his hand.

“El Diablo!” he screams.

“That’s what they call me.”

I slam the hammer into the center of his hand a few more times for good measure. His bones crack and blood seeps through the center of the wound. After I’m satisfied, I repeat it with his other hand. He continues to scream and call me the devil, which I ignore, because I am.

“Calm down. Jesus did this for your sins. If I recall correctly, he was hanging from a cross. So.” I cross my arms. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Fuck,” he heaves. “You.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

The man looks confused as I reach for the bamboo. He obviously hasn’t done much torturing in his career. I’m excited to be the first one to demonstrate this for him.

“I think you’ll change your mind.”

I grab his index finger and slam the small bamboo shoot under his fingernail. He screams in agony as his nail is peeled back and the shoot goes into the bone.

The man is surprisingly strong willed. I make it through four fingers before he caves.

“Ok, ok!” he shouts. “I’ll tell you.”

“Fantastic.”

“Eduardo doesn’t plan to attack Gary Diego directly.”

“Oh really?” I’m not buying it, and I hold up another bamboo shoot. “Si! He’s going straight to you, since you work so closely. After he’s done with you, he’ll go for Gary Diego.”

“And how does he plan on doing this?” I ask.

“Yo no se!”

Like fuck he doesn’t know. I grab another bamboo shoot and shove it up his pinky. I get satisfaction as his nail peels backwards, and the man vomits from pain.

“I swear!”

After a few more bamboo shoots I’m satisfied he doesn’t know anything else.

“We’re done here,” I say to Taime.

He picks up his pistol and in an instant the man is out of his suffering. So humane.

Taime is the man you don’t want at your doorstep. When criminals hear they’re after him, they tremble in fear. He can walk into a crowded club and kill thirty men, and the boss is sitting calmly, because he knows his fate.

That’s why I’m ‘The Devil.’ Taime may be able to kill a room full of men, but there are some things worse than death. And I was born to inflict those things upon people.

Together, we’re perfect complements of one another. And that’s why father adopted us.

I was chosen to be the underboss by our adopted father. He knows I’m a heartless being who doesn’t care if I have to torture women and children to get what I need, and I make my moves like chess pieces across a board.

Taime doesn’t care I was chosen. In fact, I think he prefers it. He doesn’t say it, but there are days when he really doesn’t want to do this. So, there’s no sibling rivalry between us.

“Find someone to clean this up,” I mutter.

It’s getting near six, so Maryjane will be walking by soon. I need to change into a set of clothes that aren’t covered in blood, so she doesn’t find out that I truly am The Devil.