When he was finished eating the fruit from the bowl he returned to his room which he found without any difficulty. On his bed was a fresh suit of clothes similar to the one he was wearing, so after taking a shower, he read a chapter from Liah's Holy book, then sat on the floor, crossed his legs, placed his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. He was still in that sitting position when there was a knock on his door. He took a deep breath, slowly opened his eyes and in a calm tone said. "Yes."
Jermaine pokes his head in before the rest of him follows. "You coming to dinner or what?" He asks. Michael glanced at the clock on the table and saw that it was seven-fifteen. The tyrant did say dinner would be served at seven. He had spent hours in a meditative state but to him, it felt like only minutes.
He nods his head slowly before unfolding his legs and rising to his feet. As he approached the dining hall he could hear multiple voices speaking about different things but when he entered the hall all the voices ceased and the hall went as silent as a tomb and for some reason all eyes were on him.
"Ignore them, you're a vegetarian right?" Jermaine asks and Michael nods again. "Alright, come this way and help yourself," Jermaine said handing him a white chalk plate and walking away. Michael looked down at the plate, then towards the big cabinet where he had seen the plates earlier. He then looks at the table where all the men are seated, each of them has a white plate in front of them.
Nodding his head in understanding he walks towards the big containers. He saw fish, vegetables and the thing Liah called pasta. He took a little of each then turned back to the table to see Jermaine waving him over to an empty seat.
As if the situation wasn't awkward enough, sitting next to Jermaine was one of the men who attacked him earlier. After taking a deep breath he walked over and sat down. The man got up, grabbed his plate and stormed out of the dining hall. "Ignore him," Jermaine said rolling his eyes.
"You're a vegetarian but you eat fish?" Jermaine asks, his brow raised. "It doesn't disgust me so, yeah, I do." "You're a strange one, aren't you?" Jermaine chuckles. "Maybe," Michael said his eyes focused on his plate.
"You got yourself a pet there Jermaine?" One of the men asks with a nasty smirk. "So what if I do? All of us were in this man's position at one point or another, we were all strangers to this place at first so I don't see what the fucking attitude is about." Jermaine said sucking his teeth.
"Oh, you don't see what the fucking attitude is about?" Another one asks. "your little pet there is the reason Milton's face looks like that." The man said laughing. "What! No, really? Why did you attack Milton?" Jermaine asks in disbelief. "He didn't, Milton attacked him and he defended himself." Another one said. "That fucking liar. I heard him telling Lex that he was attacked by some men from the other side, but seriously it was you? You kicked his ass!" Jermaine laughs.
"Oh, Milton wasn't the only one that got his ass kicked by your pet." Another one said. "Shut the fuck up, will you?" one of his attackers shouted. "You want to come over here and make me, bruised face?" The man asks with a laugh. "You going to lose your tongue one of these days." "By who? You, pussy, please." "Who's fucking side are you on, anyway?" Another one asks. "Mine asshole!" the man growls.
And so it went on and on and Michael felt his head begin to ache. So he got up and was about to make his way out of the room when one of his earlier attackers stepped in front of him and pointed a knife at him. "You think you're something special don't you, asshole? Let's see what my knife has to say about that." The man said coming closer to Michael.
"What the fuck are you doing jackass!?" Another one shouts running between Michael and the man. Jermaine however realized that Michael didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the man and his big knife.
"Touch him and the boss will gut you like a fucking fish." He states. "You know that's right." Jermaine chimed in. "Maybe I should just cut out your tongue instead." The man said turning to Jermaine. "Oh, so you want to cut the boss's pet now? You have a death wish tonight, or what? Alright go ahead, it was nice knowing you." The man said walking back to the table and sitting down turning his back to the man with the knife. "This isn't over asshole." The man growls putting his knife back in his waist and storming away from them.
A few minutes later Michael stepped into his room and his steps halted, something was different, yes his room looked a lot neater, his bed was spread with fresh clean sheets and the floor had a nice smell but other than that something just didn't feel right.
His eyes began wandering around the room taking in every detail, his eyes then came to rest on a small black radio that wasn't there before. He walks slowly towards it and lifts it in his hand turning it this way and that. He was still examining the radio when Jermaine's voice from the door pulled his attention away from it. "You forgot your dessert," Jermaine said entering the room carrying a slice of cake which he handed to Michael. "Thank you," Michael said nodding slowly. "What's that for?" Jermaine asks looking at the radio in Michael's hand.
"Not sure, please get rid of it for me." He said shoving the radio at Jermaine's chest and walking towards the table with the cake in his hand. "Alright see you tomorrow then," Jermaine said leaving the room.
The following day Razor and Blade were once again standing by one of the windows watching Michael evading the dogs again using the iron pole.
"Anything?" Razor asks, his arms folded across his thick chest. "I'm sorry but no, I've called in every favour I can think of and still nothing," Blade said in a worried tone. "If you weren't so good at what you do, I would put a bullet in your head, you know that right?" Razor growls. "I know," Blade said in a nervous tone.
"But um, one of my contacts did have a theory though." "Which is?" Razor ask in cold tone. "Well, he was thinking that the reason we can't find this man's identity is maybe because he doesn't have one." "What the hell does that mean? Everyone has an identity," Razor snaps.
"Well according to him not everyone does, for example, an agent from the black ops corporation." "Black what?" Razor asks through clenched teeth. "Black ops, according to him these men don't have a set identity. They adopt the identity of their mission. One day they're John Doe, the next they're Paul Jones." Blade explains.
"Fuck, so if any of this is real, you're basically telling me that I have a Syrian Black ops assassin living in my house?" Razor asks coldly. "Basically, yes." "Fuck, that's the last time I save anyone." Razor growls. "Or we could look at this another way, I mean can you imagine having someone like him fighting for us, not because he's forced to but because he wants to?" Blade asks with a smirk.
"The other side wouldn't stand a chance against us." Blade ads. "He already hates me, so getting him to fight for us of his own free will is out of the question, I'll just have to break him like I did all the others," Razor said. "No offence but I don't think that will work and true he does hate you, his defences rise every time he sees you but I on the other hand….." Blade trails off.
"What your contact says does explain a lot though, like how he detects that radio with the camera within minutes of stepping into his room," Razor said thoughtfully.
"I need your permission to get close to him and bring him over to our side, make him one of our soldiers." Blade said. "You? You're going to make that stubborn son of a bitch fight for us of his own free will?" Razor asks with a snort.
"Are you saying I can't?" Blade asks in a challenging tone. "That I'll have to see to believe." Razor snorts again. "Challenge accepted, just watch me work." Blade laugh. "Well you ask for it but just so you know, if you can't accomplish this task, say within a month, I'll tie you in the sun for three days without food," Razor said in a serious tone. before walking away.
"I guess It's time to pull out the big guns." Blade said scratching his head nervously while turning his attention back to Michael who was now sitting on the limb, again with a fruit in his hand.
***
Liah lets out an exhausting sigh as she flops down on her veranda chair. The last few days including today had been tedious. Everyone at work was still treating her like a wounded puppy because of what they assumed she went through at the hands of Razor and his men.
No matter how many times she told them it wasn't what they were assuming they didn't listen. They just accuse her of downplaying what she went through and continue with their pity party. She so had enough of that, she could literally scream from frustration right now.
On the other hand, the fact that she hadn't seen David much in the last few days wasn't enough to concern her to a point where she didn't spend most of her time worrying about Michael. Seriously she should be more concerned as to why her boyfriend was so scarce these days but surprisingly she wasn't, which was strange because the first few days at Razor's house she felt as if she would die being away from him and now?
Now she felt like she would lose her mind if she didn't hear something, anything about Michael, soon. Her worry for Michael was a lot stronger than anything that was going on around her at this point. Right now more than anything she wanted to walk up to Razor's gate and demand to see Michael but as worried as she was about him even she knew that wasn't a good idea.
So what was she to do now? sit here and wonder what was happening to him inside that hell hole. She was still contemplating what to do when a car drove up and stopped at her gate and her brother stepped out.
He went to the back, took out her suitcase and walked towards her. Great, finally she could get some answers about how Michael was doing that would put her mind at ease.
He muttered a 'hi.' Pass her and go inside. A few minutes later he came back out and was about to walk past her when she stopped him. "Hey wait, please, can you tell me how Michael is doing? Is he alright? Did that lick in his head cause any serious damage?" She asks eagerly.
"Worry more about yourself and less about that asshole." Anthony growls before storming away from her. "You know, sometimes I can't believe that hateful punk is related to me." She mumbles to herself as she watched the car drive away.
"And after all that, I still have no idea if Michael is okay or not, but wait, why was he so angry at Michael? Wasn't he supposed to at least be trying to look out for him. So why did he refer to him as an a-hole? Ugh, this is so frustrating, why can't I stop worrying about him?' She mumbles to herself again.
With another frustrating sigh she got up, went inside to her room, flops down on her bed and put her head under her pillow.
Thank you all for reading
Words of encouragement
Without God we can do nothing
But with God all things are possible
Riddle from last ch, where is the best place
To look for a banana? Ans: in a banana peel.
Got that one? Good right? Okay here's another.
What do you call a grouchy person at the beach?
Good luck