Sin City: Prodigal Son
Chapter: 3
"Shamshel"
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I woke up the next morning in Misato's apartment. The couch I was lying on smelled like beer. There were worse places I could have found myself, and soberer people I could have found myself with. Consequently, a little sweet-talking on my part was all it took for Misato to agree to put me up while I was in town. Plus, I think she might have had a thing for me. I wasn't above using that to get free room and board.
A couple days went by with nothing much happening. Some girls were killed; not Rei or Misato. Some cops bought it, too; not Ritsuko or Kaji. And it was all the damn Angels' fault. They were turning Tokyo-3 into a minefield; one wrong step and you were a smear on the pavement.
I spent more time than I should have at Keidi's. They say that lightening doesn't strike the same place twice, which is actually a lie, but it was still unlikely that I'd get another lead by hanging out at that place. Ritsuko would pass me tips, unofficially, and I'd check them out. But after coming up empty, I'd always head back to hit the booze and watch Hikari dance.
One particular evening, I stayed until closing. There was a guy in the place that I'd never seen before. He was about my age with dark, spiky hair. He wore his poker-face like an old, comfortable suit. Even so, he was giving off a vibe like he wanted to talk to me or something. I thought maybe finally my luck was changing, and I had attracted the attention of the Angels, like I'd hoped to do after offing Sachiel.
I gave the guy plenty of opportunities to approach me. I didn't want to seem too eager. But he just sat watching Hikari and pounding back the drinks. It wasn't until I headed out that he made it really obvious that he was tailing me.
"Nobody sneaks up on me," I told the guy. He was only a couple paces behind me in the alley outside Keidi's. I turned nice and slow to show him that I wasn't afraid of some pussy making a crappy attempt at an ambush. He shrugged.
"I wasn't really trying that hard," he said. Then he socked me in the jaw.
I landed on my ass. That hurt… my tailbone and my pride. The guy didn't make a single move after that. He just stood there looking down at me. Rest assured, if he'd so much as twitched, I'd have shot him.
"That was for my sister," he told me. I blinked. I'd raised a lot of hell back in the day, but not that kind. "She's in rehab right now… third try. My Dad and I thought she was clean the last time, until her roommate found her in their kitchen with her wrists slashed. Good thing she can't cut for shit when she's high."
"What's that got to do with me?" I asked. The guy fixed me with a stare like he wanted to tear me apart. I could see him grinding his teeth, trying to keep his cool.
"Sachiel should've been mine," he hissed.
Shit. I didn't know what to say. I just sat there as he stepped over me. I watched him walk away, sullen and unfulfilled. Punching me was sure as hell no replacement for killing the bastard who'd poisoned his sister. He was almost out of sight before I found my voice.
"Man, I'm sorry," I said. It sounded lame because it was. So was this: "What's your name?"
"Toji," he told me. And then he was gone.
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A few days later, I finally bit the proverbial bullet.
The old church was the same. I felt that same shiver of fear when I passed through those iron-hinged doors, like God had His eye on me now that I was in His house. It was the same sensation I'd had, going in there at age 8 after lifting some gum from the corner store. Only this time, I'd killed somebody. All the same as far as God's concerned, so they say. If I'm going to hell for something, it's not going to be on a "graven images" rap, that's for damned sure. Ah, but isn't that the beauty of Catholicism? Quick trip to the booth, and all's forgiven. More or less. I didn't stay up at night pondering the finer points.
Mary and the Saints wept down at me from the windows as I walked between the pews in the empty hall. The candles were freshly lit. I assumed so, anyhow. They'd have been stumps if they'd been burning since the night before. I made the sign of the cross at the Big Man on the wall, then I headed over to the confessional. The priest was ready and waiting.
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," I said as I took my seat. "It's been three years since my last confession."
"And what are your sins, my son?" came the voice from behind the partition.
"Well, I won't bore you with the old, small stuff…," I told him. "A few nights ago, I killed a man. Possibly three. I didn't make sure of the other two." There was a deep silence. Finally, the Father drew a breath to speak.
"Were they wicked men?" he asked. My bruised body was already screaming "yes".
"Undoubtedly," I said.
"Then you are forgiven," said the priest. More silence followed. I waited a while for something more. "But forgiveness is not all you have come seeking, is it, my son?" It was good to hear that he wasn't totally oblivious.
"I want to know about the Angels."
"The Scriptures tell us all we need to know about the messengers of God."
"Not those Angels," I said, trying to keep my patience. "I mean the gang. Ritsuko's got her sources, apparently, but it's pretty scant stuff so far. You've got your ear to the ground. You know things. What can you tell me about the Angels?"
I knew that he was weighing his response carefully. It's something you do as a public figure; second nature to priest and politician alike. Whenever you have to deviate from the script that you've rehearsed for the masses… "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world", "You are forgiven", "No new taxes", all that bullshit… you want to make sure you say just the right thing, so as not to dig yourself into a hole.
"Officer Akagi knows everything that I know about the Angels," he told me.
"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "Big help, as usual."
I stormed out of the booth, stomping my feet and listening to it echo, signaling my displeasure and departure. Twenty-one years old and I wasn't above a little tantrum. Just like when I was a kid, going off to my room and slamming the door when I didn't get my way. I heard the priest leave his booth behind me, and I looked back.
Like Lot's dumb-ass wife, I looked back.
She was waiting up front by the altar. I knew in an instant that it was her. You couldn't miss that shock of powder-blue hair, that porcelain-white skin, or those burning eyes. Rei Ayanami. Her katanas, she had the respect not to bring into the sanctuary. Guiltily, I knew she could spot the bulge of Eva in the back of my pants, even under the coat, even from this distance. But her eyes weren't on me. It wasn't me that she was waiting for.
The priest smoothed his vestments and straightened his collar. He took a last dour look at me before turning to go to her. He was always so calm and detached. Just like Rei. Even when she was cutting somebody in half for crossing the girls of Old Town; even when she was telling you that you were worthless, which she could do with one cold stare. But when the two of them talked, you could see the malice and the hate that she hid so well. It was the only time it showed. They argued at the front of the church in harshly spit whispers, so I couldn't tell what they were saying.
I didn't stick around to see the end of it. I shoved my way past the big, wooden doors and flew down the steps to the street. I remember, at the time, I was thinking about the Father's glasses. He'd gotten a new pair since I'd seen him last; tinted, reflecting the light so you could barely catch a glimpse of his eyes. The Father… my father… Gendo Ikari.
I wasn't adopted like Rei. He was my real father by blood. The Catholic Church lifted their ban on priests marrying and procreating after Second Impact killed half the planet's population. They were a little worried about keeping up the numbers of the faithful, and rightly so. I think they were genuinely surprised when God's Wrath in the form of a giant meteor killed them as indiscriminately as it did the heathens.
Me and my Dad is a whole can of worms that I don't want to get into right now. It's a lot of hurt and shame and memories that I'd rather forget. But it was none of that stuff that was distracting me as I left his church. It was just his stupid, new glasses.
I didn't notice the car pull up until it was too late. Two guys got out, clubbed me and Tazered me at the same time to make good and sure that I was down and out. I guess they were out of chloroform, or they would've gone for the hat-trick.
My sense shut down and I took another dip into blackness.
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I woke up tied to a chair, completely naked. I had a fleeting hope that I'd woken up at Misato's again. She'd do some pretty kinky shit if you paid her enough. But then I remembered the car outside the church and the thugs.
Besides me and the chair, there was a table in the room with my clothes and gun sitting in one corner of it. The two guys who grabbed me were there too, along with a third guy. He was a gangly son-of-a-bitch; thin neck, hawk-nose, and arms that looked half-a-foot too long for the rest of his proportions. At the end of one of those arms, he was holding a bag that I'd didn't much like the look of. Or maybe I'm just remembering it that way because of what came later.
"I'd like to complain about the draft," I said, trying to act all macho and flip.
The little guy with the bag sauntered over to me. He slapped my face, and then put his finger to his lips.
"Mr. Shamshel insists that you do not speak," one of the henchmen told me. "However, if you like, he will permit you to scream. It's encouraged, actually."
"Shamshel" started pulled all sorts of things from his bag, laying them out neatly on the table. It looked like a doctor's bag and a mechanic's tool box had gone and had a masochist's wet-dream of a baby. Each little toy he pulled out, Shamshel smiled at it like he was checking out a centerfold model. When he was done unpacking, he nodded at his pals, and they left us alone in the room. I knew I was in for it.
It went on, I don't know how long. Shamshel knew his stuff. He knew pressure points, where the biggest bundles of nerves would give me the most pain from just a jab with the tips of his fingers or a needle from his kit. He knew how to use the pliers on me, make me think he was going to break a finger but stop just short. Then he went to my toes, and he did break a couple of the little ones. Worst of all, he knew how to cut; not too deep, just enough to draw blood, in all the little, sensitive places like the skin between the fingers, around the nipples, under the ears, and other places I won't mention.
I wouldn't scream. I'd grunt and I'd cough. My eyes were red from watering and the insides of my cheeks were bloody from me biting them, but I wouldn't give that sadistic fuck the satisfaction of a scream. I couldn't tell if I was frustrating him, though. He went about his business like a machine. I hoped I was pissing him off.
I'd just about had it when he shoved something in my mouth. It was molded to bite down on and tasted like it hadn't been cleaned too thoroughly since its last use. I took it anyway, to give my cheeks a break. Then I saw him get out what looked like a car battery. I figured, correctly, that I was in for some makeshift electro-shock therapy.
He attached the leads to me, and by this point I didn't much care if it killed me. I shed a tear with Rei's name on it that no one could see, mixed as it was with all the others. Then he hooked me up to the juice. I had no sensation from my body, no control or thought, other than searing pain all over. He gave me a little break to remember my other wounds, then hit me with it again. I still wasn't screaming. It was more of a yell, muffled through the mouthpiece.
The lights went out during my second break. Other things were happening, but it was all I could do to process just the lack of light. There was a pop and a flash in the darkness. I thought the fucker had shot me, even though I didn't feel it. I wasn't sure that I could feel, after the wringer I'd been through. I wondered for a crazy second if he'd shot me in the head, and maybe my nerves were too fried for me to realize that I was dead.
"Holy shit, man, are you okay?" someone asked me. It took me a long time to clear the fog out of my head; time that someone spent untying me. He was helping me to my feet and over to my clothes when I recognized the voice.
"Toji?" I asked in a choking whisper. He went over, warned me so I'd be ready, and then flicked the lights back on. It was him. I spent another good chunk of time getting dressed… mostly because I wouldn't let him help me. By the time I finished, I was feeling a little better than I had after my bout with Sachiel. About all that meant was that I probably wouldn't pass out.
"What a waste," I said dryly. Shamshel was lying on the floor with a fresh bullet-hole in his forehead. "He'd have made a great interrogator, if he'd fucking bothered to ask me anything!" Toji was putting away his gun and shaking his head.
"You killed Sachiel, I killed Shamshel," he said. "I guess that makes us even."
"Not quite," I said. Then I socked him in the jaw.
To his credit, he didn't go down. He staggered a little, but that was all. He was even smiling as he massaged his chin. Toji probably knew damn well he was asking for that punch, and he knew that I was ready to give it. But I was a long way from satisfied. Blood was pooling under Shamshel's head, but I could still hear the Beast whispering to me inside my own. It kept reminding me of what Shamshel had done; all the indignities and pain he inflicted on me. The whispers got louder until I didn't know what I was doing.
I pulled out Eva and I fired. I screamed loud and I kept on firing. I perforated that fucker's corpse and I didn't stop, even after Eva was clicking in my hand. Toji put his hand on my shoulder and I almost pistol-whipped him. He looked pretty freaked out by what I'd just done, and I can't say I blame him.
"The cops are coming," he told me softly. "I called them right before I busted in here. You'd better go."
The blood was pumping in my ears. I hadn't heard the sirens until he mentioned them. Toji led me over and showed me the way he'd come up. I went out that same way, down the fire escape. I was so worried about getting collared; I didn't even stop to put a fresh clip in Eva. I also didn't notice the significance of what Toji had said. A whole lot of shit was going to go down before I even remembered his choice of words.
And by then, of course, it would be way too late.
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Continued…