Post by leo on Mar 15, 2011 13:25:56 GMT -5
It is late. Today a young man, Leo, buried his father. For this reason he has returned to his small hometown in Greece. He is drunk. The bars closed long ago, but that, nor anything else for that matter, has ever stopped Leo before. He is walking, but he thinks not of where he treads. He loosens the black tie, shoulders out of the jacket and throws it aside. It was handmade in Italy, tailor fit, designer made. It had cost him three thousand Euros. Money was of no concern to him.
All his life he'd felt... different, somehow. Stranger, stronger, better than all the boys around him. He always won in footraces, in tests of strength, he was top of class from kindergarten through university, graduating Summa Cum Laude, with a masters in literature, at the age of 20. By his current age of 27 he ruled Greece, from its seedy underbelly, to its corrupt politicians, with all the ports and businesses in between. The same could be said for half of Europe by this point, and he was a political figure now, rising in the polls, seen as an honorable man of esteem.
But already Leo was tired of this game, it was as if he was playing chess with a two year old who only had pawns. Today he had buried his father. He had died of natural causes, a bad heart, same as his mother, a few years prior. They had raised him, and he had loved them. They were gone now, and he had no other true links to this world he was rapidly gaining control of, no one else he cared for.
He had plenty of fucks. Plenty of underlings. He wasn't sure if it was just that it was lonely here at the top, but somehow that wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. Never had been. When he was 12 he banged his 17 year old brother Aleksander's girlfriend, just because he could. When he was 8 he beat a grown man to the brink of death, then cried and said the man had tried to touch him so he'd pushed him away, down a flight of stairs as it had turned out. The police were very sorry. The man went to prison. Leo realized people were stupid, that he could control them all. What the fuck was the point of living a life with no difficulty, where was the fun in a game with no challenge?
As he walked through the streets, lost in thoughts, it grew dark around him, a heavy fog settling over the streets. Leo did not notice. He merely kept walking. Eventually he finished the bottle and tossed it to the side. It should have shattered against a wall almost instantly, but he heard nothing for several long seconds until it shattered softly, far away.
Leo stopped. He was intrigued. He walked slowly in the direction of his tossed bottle, searching through the deep fog. "What the fuck is going on?" He muttered under his breath, drawing his snub nose pistol, a .44 Special, custom made, from the back of his trousers, and advanced into the thick mist.
It grew so heavy he could not see his own hands, he was beginning to have trouble breathing, it was like being underwater. And just like that, the fog was receding, but Leo was not in his hometown, no he was standing on a grassy hill, miles before him lay a great valley, a slowly curving, beautiful river, and twinkling lights amid grand trees. The place seemed damned near magical. "Holy fuck." Leo murmured. "We sure as shit ain't in Kansas."
All his life he'd felt... different, somehow. Stranger, stronger, better than all the boys around him. He always won in footraces, in tests of strength, he was top of class from kindergarten through university, graduating Summa Cum Laude, with a masters in literature, at the age of 20. By his current age of 27 he ruled Greece, from its seedy underbelly, to its corrupt politicians, with all the ports and businesses in between. The same could be said for half of Europe by this point, and he was a political figure now, rising in the polls, seen as an honorable man of esteem.
But already Leo was tired of this game, it was as if he was playing chess with a two year old who only had pawns. Today he had buried his father. He had died of natural causes, a bad heart, same as his mother, a few years prior. They had raised him, and he had loved them. They were gone now, and he had no other true links to this world he was rapidly gaining control of, no one else he cared for.
He had plenty of fucks. Plenty of underlings. He wasn't sure if it was just that it was lonely here at the top, but somehow that wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. Never had been. When he was 12 he banged his 17 year old brother Aleksander's girlfriend, just because he could. When he was 8 he beat a grown man to the brink of death, then cried and said the man had tried to touch him so he'd pushed him away, down a flight of stairs as it had turned out. The police were very sorry. The man went to prison. Leo realized people were stupid, that he could control them all. What the fuck was the point of living a life with no difficulty, where was the fun in a game with no challenge?
As he walked through the streets, lost in thoughts, it grew dark around him, a heavy fog settling over the streets. Leo did not notice. He merely kept walking. Eventually he finished the bottle and tossed it to the side. It should have shattered against a wall almost instantly, but he heard nothing for several long seconds until it shattered softly, far away.
Leo stopped. He was intrigued. He walked slowly in the direction of his tossed bottle, searching through the deep fog. "What the fuck is going on?" He muttered under his breath, drawing his snub nose pistol, a .44 Special, custom made, from the back of his trousers, and advanced into the thick mist.
It grew so heavy he could not see his own hands, he was beginning to have trouble breathing, it was like being underwater. And just like that, the fog was receding, but Leo was not in his hometown, no he was standing on a grassy hill, miles before him lay a great valley, a slowly curving, beautiful river, and twinkling lights amid grand trees. The place seemed damned near magical. "Holy fuck." Leo murmured. "We sure as shit ain't in Kansas."
