.
8.
Heartless
I set foot in the first village I meet in which the fight is still raging. The houses are mostly destroyed and only a handful of Madorians remains on the battleground, surrounded by my soldiers, trying to resist their assaults by closing themselves in a tight formation.
My men stop abruptly as soon as they see me and even the few monsters left turn to look at me. The battle stops, time seems to crystallize in my presence.
«Lord Frieza!» yells, incredulous, the commander of that legion. «What are you doing here?»
«I was bored.»
I feel Dodoria landing behind me. He doesn't know how to use energy properly but at least he knows how to levitate, this is already a step forward. I watch my troop flinch as he arrives.
«Beware, Lord Frieza!» some soldiers shout, pointing to him when they see him coming up behind me as if I could not perceive an enemy so close.
Three of them launch on Dodoria at incredible speed. I let them do it. I could block them, tell them he's not a threat, but I want to see if everything that has been reported to me about his strength is true… besides, it was really an outrage to be underestimated like that.
I watch them unleash their fury on him, throwing huge energy spheres which crash into the thick, calloused skin of the Madorian. Around them a blanket of smoke and topsoil rises and mix together, preventing me from seeing, but I continue to hear their screams until, suddenly, silence falls.
When the smoke clears I can't hold back a smile. Dodoria is standing, unscathed, and holding one of the three by the neck. The other two are motionless on the ground, next to him. If dead or injured, I can't tell.
And this scum thinks itself able to protect me...
Dodoria looks at me without letting go of his prey, which continues to struggle in midair, gasping for breath. I understand that he's waiting to know whether or not he can get rid of him; in fact I realize that the other two on the ground begin to move in agony. Great, really great.
Have fun, I tell him with a nod. I don't need to repeat it twice. His hand passes from the neck to the soldier's head and is flanked by the other; now my man is suspended in midair, with his skull trapped in the palms of my new commander, and he tries in vain to kick, to widen the grip that afflicts him. But that does not expand, on the contrary, with every second it gets stronger, like a press.
And then… crack.
The body goes limp when Dodoria's hands snap against each other, shattering whatever is in between. I have no way of seeing anything but the bloodstains that form at his feet; the Madorian throws the body away and it falls sprawled farther away, in a pose almost as embarrassing as the reason why he ended up there.
Dodoria lifts his face and looks at me. I can read a silent question in his eyes, as if he wanted to make sure I enjoyed the show, but he's smiling, so he already knows the answer. He crosses his arms behind his back and nods slightly.
The silence is incredible. Everyone watches the scene in shock and disbelief, from my soldiers to the Madorian rebels. Nobody knows how to behave. The only certain thing is that anyone who opposes me will end up worse than the incompetent who got himself killed in such a ridiculous way.
I decide to interrupt the contemplation by spreading my arms towards our guests.
«I see that you have stopped fighting. Did you perhaps understand the futility of your efforts, my dear Madorians?»
Nobody talks but I can perceive an electric atmosphere that is unleashed between Dodoria and the other Madorians: all the fighters still standing watch him, full of hatred. I sense that he was not very popular on this beautiful planet but maybe I will ask him himself; the only certain thing is that hatred is repaid.
Even my soldiers are quite incredulous and I can't blame them: they just witnessed the death of one of their comrades, moreover without my preventing it. I hope this will teach them something.
«Tell everyone what you saw today» I say, addressing them. «And remember that you're not here to protect me, but to do the dirty work for me. Never underestimate me like that again or you will be next.»
A king doesn't need to fight: he has others who do it in his place.
I have a thrill of pleasure in remembering those words. I would pay gold to know what Cooler would think of all this from the only, silly planet of him.
I look into the eyes of the last Madorians one by one, unable to hold back my disgust.
«Just surrender. You have no hope. Make your life easier and save time you can earn by eating a hot meal and working out. Bow down now, and I promise you that in an hour you will all be washed, dressed and you'll begin your brand new life without further suffering.»
They look at each other, exchanging suspicious glances, then look at Dodoria. I follow their eyes with mine as the first monsters slowly get down on their knees, followed by all the others. A few moments later they are all with their heads down, trembling with anger or fear, bent over before their new master and ruler.
«Good» I'm pleased. «Someone else is left?»
«Nobody relevant, Lord Frieza» one of my men says.
«What about the houses?»
«Old people and children. If there are other warriors, they have not shown themselves.»
I nod.
«If there are other warriors, they are cowards and I don't want any in my ranks. Take these brave soldiers to the spaceship, medicate them and serve dinner. I'll arrive after cleaning.»
I notice a certain confusion among the Madorians. One of them, the largest, with a deep, blood-red skin, jumps up his head.
«You... you told us you would spare the village!» he growls through his teeth. I can't hold back an amused smile as their eyes fill with fear and with a new awareness as I deny, shaking my head.
«Did I? I think I said I would spare you. If you're not going to change my mind, clearly. Now go.»
They are all too shaken to face me; someone, while getting up and following my men, glances quickly at the houses behind me. Someone else's face is streaked with tears. Nobody dares to speak.
When they're far enough I turn to Dodoria. I find him with folded arms staring at the Madorians with an indecipherable look; he seems full of resentment and hatred, but at the same time he can't stop following them with his eyes as if, deep down, he had mixed feelings for them.
«Well» I say, drawing his attention. He turns to me instantly and I raise my hand, pointing to the village behind me. «Would you mind, Dodoria?»
I watch him in an attempt to hide the confusion. Just as I expected. If he really believed that his proof would consist in eliminating one of the invaders of his planet, he was very wrong... that was just a funny surprise. I need much, much more before I can trust him: I demand total obedience from him. My men have no origins, no past and, above all, they have no feeling except for devotion and fear. My commander must be all this and much more.
Come on, Dodoria, show me that you really want all the power I can give you.
He clenches his fists, then looks away. He's struggling with himself, probably recalling whatever has made him suffer in his life in order to find a motivation to exterminate his people. He's trying to fight his wild feelings.
Just like you, Frieza.
Then he takes off, hovering over the houses. There are about thirty of them, small and made of bricks, with thatched and wooden roofs. Some are already destroyed but others are perfectly intact and I am sure they are full not only of their inhabitants, but also of all those whose houses have already been demolished.
I look for his gaze but from this moment on Dodoria never turns to me again.
He charges a huge sphere of energy the size of his skull and, without hesitation, throws it at one of the houses. It explodes, hit in full, throwing splinters of straw and glowing wood everywhere. Heartbreaking screams rise in the air and someone tries to escape by going out onto the street, but my new commander points and hits them, reducing the fugitives to small smoking piles.
While he destroys his village and burns his people alive, I make myself comfortable to enjoy the show. Dodoria seems to float in another dimension where only anger and hatred exist: he spares no one and his blows are charged, one after the other, with a blind fury. Each performance becomes more spectacular, each death increases his thirst to please me and all this intoxicates me, the blinding light of the flames enchants me, the screams become music, the scent of wood and burnt flesh excite my senses like a drug.
A king doesn't need to fight: he has others who do it in his place.
So be it.
Next chapter:
Echoes from the past
14.02