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Joshua paid neither my baby brother nor me any mind. He was too busy staring at the three people with the hoods over their heads.
“Oh, how rude of me. Joshua this is Ryan, his wife Denise, and their daughter. She just turned twenty today, by the way, so I do believe congratulations are in order.”
As I gestured to each figure, their hoods were removed. The gags remained. I made sure to drop the age tidbit so he was aware that I knew he had a daughter around the same age.
When one of my men began removing the lids on the drums, Joshua turned to me with wide eyes having a very clear idea of what was about to happen. Certain execution methods my family had adopted over the years were well known–this was one of them.
“What is this about?” he asked, his voice slightly shaking.
“Why don’t you get down on your knees and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
His jaw clenched. His gaze darted around the room as he struggled with choosing to be emasculated or having his kneecaps broken.
With a reluctant, subtle nod, he slowly lowered himself to the cold stone floor.
Elias stepped behind him and placed his gun on the back of his head to make sure that’s was where he remained.
“You had a shipment meant to be delivered two days ago,” I began, motioning for my executioner to move forward with the crook of a finger. When Joshua saw the ax in Diablo’s hand, his body went ramrod straight. “Mateo, I–––.”
“Before you lie and tell me the shipment in question was delivered and nothing went wrong, I’m going to let you know I saw the man who was supposed to be shadowing you.
He assured me he has no idea how a pallet of ten kilos suddenly became eight. He’s worked for me much longer than you have and is currently recovering from a broken nose and shattered hand because of your negligence.”
With a slight jerk of my chin, Diablo pulled Ryan’s daughter from the line and dragged her closer to the three drums.
Her parents screamed behind their gags but were forced to remain on their stomachs and watch the scene unfold as two of my men held their heads up by the hair.
Diablo shoved the girl face first into the stone floor. She cried out and her head bounced up immediately upon impact. A split second later, his ax made a faint whooshing sound, cutting through the air.
It found its mark, driving its well-honed blade into the back of her neck, severing muscle, bone, and tissue. He pulled back, leaving a wide gaping hole. Joshua keeled over and vomited when the second swing completely decapitated her head.
It landed on the floor with a soft thud and rolled back towards her father. Blood pooled where the headless body came to rest.
These kinds of scenes were nothing like in the movies. Sure, it was messy as hell, but it didn’t spray all over the damn place like an endless water fountain. Her parent’s struggled more determindedly now, their anguished cries growing louder.
No one else in the room reacted. We were dehumanized to such tragedies. Growing up in Vice City, we had to be. Many of us had acquaintances, friends, or family members who had gone through this very thing at the hand of a rival cartel before the city was fully under my father’s control.
Ryan and his wife watched on in despairing horror as Diablo made quick work of their daughter’s remaining limbs. There was a fascinatingly artistic aesthetic to his flawless proficiency that couldn’t be duplicated. He wielded an ax like Picasso wielded a paintbrush.
The sound of sinew and bone-crunching and separating was a familiar soundtrack in this room.
Diablo could have used any weapon he wanted––the chainsaw for example––but he was faithful to his ax––and that was fine with me. After successfully disposing of over at least two hundred bodies, I didn’t care what he used.
“I thought my policy was simple and clear-cut. I have a two-strike rule. You fuck up once, I can consider allowing pieces of shit like yourself to waste oxygen in my city and more of my invaluable time. But if you fuck up twice, there is no do-over.”
Joshua’s entire body quivered. He shook his head back and forth and convulsed with sobs, continuing to deny the truth to my face.
“Mateo, you know I wouldn’t touch your product. I value my life–– Ah!”
His head whipped to the side as my fist made impact with his face, a tiny spittle of blood landing on the floor.
“I’ll advise you only once not to lie to me again.” I fisted his messy hair and pulled his head to the side, exposing his throat and making him look me in the eye.
“You miraculously misplaced two kilos. Now you owe me twenty-five grand for each plus another ten for interest because I had to fix your fuck up by compensating a good friend of mine. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous and not making you pay me what I’m now going to lose in profit. And if you somehow can’t pay up, your family will––just like Ryan’s is.”
I shoved his head away from me as Diablo began tossing severed limbs into one of the three drums, dropping the torso in last. A loud squelching sound emanated in the air as it was sucked down to the bottom.
Giving one strike was as lenient as I allowed myself to be. The couple tried to fight their way to one another when it was their turn, but were ultimately pulled apart.
