I've made six humans and four vampires explode. Started with the humans. Hypnotized them, took them to an abandoned factory, and right before the grand finale, snapped them out of it—just to get their senses on high alert, defense mode. I wanted them to fight. Blowing them up while they were still hypnotized would've been way too easy. Come on, I needed movement. In a real battlefield, there's no time to hypnotize first and detonate later. And well, humans do what humans do: panic, run for their lives… and then boom. They explode. Simple as that. After the sixth, I knew I was ready for the next level. Now it was time—bring on the vampires.
They were mid-tier vampires. I picked the ones whose power level came closest to Tony's. And of course, none of them belonged to Tony's sect. Come on, I couldn't just blow up one of his guys directly—that'd raise too many questions. I had to hunt down vamps who didn't kneel before that putrid German. Vampires who, in fact, couldn't stand him and might've even wished him dead. I knew Tony wouldn't even blink if a vampire outside his circle of fanatics disappeared. And if you're wondering about Skinny Jan—yeah, of course Tony noticed he vanished. And yeah, obviously he knows it was me who made that stinking piece of crap disappear. But come on, Jan wasn't exactly VIP material. He didn't give Tony any excuse to come after me. Tony would've loved for Jan to be someone more important—just to show up and give me the speech: "You've made a big mistake, Zico. I didn't want to do this, but you left me no choice." But no. Not for Jan. It would've been ridiculous. Like someone getting mad at you for eating at the same restaurant. Or for sitting on their favorite public bench. Or worse—like challenging someone to a duel for sleeping with their favorite prostitute at a brothel. It makes no sense. It's ridiculous. Tony knows it. I know it. And for that very clear reason, Skinny Jan will never be avenged.
Anyway, I had to sacrifice four vampires for the cause. A cause far greater than their miserable little lives. What do you want me to say? War always comes with casualties. And this one's no exception. I kidnapped them. I sacrificed them. Martyr vampires, if you want to dress it up with a nice name. All of them looked confused when they woke up in the abandoned factory. And yes—I can hypnotize vampires now, just as easily as I hypnotize humans. Hard work and dedication always pay off, my friend. What, did you think being a vampire was all parties and blood buffets? Hell no. You've gotta sweat like everyone else. Muscle doesn't grow unless you tear it. And trust me—around here, things have been torn plenty. And I've got to say this: Liora helped me get my hypnotizing game up to speed. I practiced with her. And now that she's feeding properly, she's stronger. I'd say she already has the strength of your average vamp. Not far off from the ones I kidnapped and, sadly for them, turned into confetti.
But anyway, let me say something about Liora. I hypnotized her over and over again, and the poor girl had no idea how she'd gone from one place to another. She'd be at home, and then suddenly—boom—sitting next to me at the movies, watching Vertigo, that brilliant film by fat old Hitchcock. God, I loved her face in those moments—utterly baffled: "What the hell just happened?" Of course, she didn't ask anything. She pretended not to notice. Played dumb. Didn't want to bug me with silly questions that might make her seem more like an idiot than a lunatic. Picture it: someone with a dumbstruck face—like someone who just lost their job and has no idea why, or who got scammed by someone they trusted—saying: "How did I get here? I wasn't here. Do you know how I got here?" Ah, my Liora. That girl always makes my night. Playing with her cracks me up. And yeah, eventually I told her what was going on. That I was hypnotizing her and all that jazz. And she goes: "Oh, sir, what a relief. I really thought something weird was happening to me. Like I was losing my mind. And I was worried, 'cause if I go nuts, that's it, right? As far as I know, there's no psychiatric wing for vampires anywhere, is there, sir?" I burst out laughing and hugged her. She hugged me back.
But anyway, back to the kidnapped vampires. The martyrs. As soon as they snapped out of my spell, they'd all say the same thing—or some variation of it:
"What's going on, Zico? What am I doing here?"
"Well, look, we're gonna play a game," I'd say.
"A game? What are you talking about, man?"
"Now you have to fight for your life."
"My life? For God's sake, Zico, what's going on? Zico, buddy, you're scaring me."
"First of all, I want you to know I've got nothing against you."
"But why would you? I'm on your side! Ask me for anything, I'll do it!"
"Then fight like the devil."
"The devil? But he doesn't even…"
"Yeah, I know he doesn't exist. It's figurative, damn it."
"Zico, brother, I don't want to fight you. Come on, just let me go home. Please, Zico. I'm a good vampire. I've never broken any of the rules you laid down. Zico, please, man, look in your heart. Don't do this. Zico, don't hurt me, man. Come on, Zico. Come on, let me go."
"Damn it. You're right, you son of a bitch. Fine. I'll let you go."
The vampire would smile, relieved. And I'd add:
"But you won't be going home. You'll be going to the afterlife—for being a cowardly piece of shit."
Then I'd attack. At first, they wouldn't fight back. But once it turned into life or death, they'd bare their fangs. I'd slow down a little, make them think they had a chance—get them to throw everything they had into trying to kill me. And then came the moment. Boom. Blood flew everywhere. Splattered all over me. Covered my body. I was like James Dean in Giant, when his oil well explodes.
After blowing those vampires to bits, I felt ready to face Tony. Ready to put my plan in motion. I had to move fast. I'd show up at his club—that vampire hedonism pit called Der Nachtruf—with the vibe of a party guy. Cool, upbeat, looking to have fun. I'd make him think I'd accepted defeat. That he was the king. And I was just another one beneath him. That's what he needed to believe. I wanted him to look at me and think I was saying: "Hey, Tony, anything you need—count on me, man. Whatever you want. You call me, and I'll drop everything to serve you, my dear German brother." And then, when he least expects it, I'll turn him into a half-coagulated mess of strawberry-flavored gelatin.
I told Liora:
"You need to hide. You know where."
Where? In the abandoned tunnel of a subway line in Portuondo they never got around to finishing. I'm sure—absolutely sure—it was never completed because of the damn corruption rotting through every corner of those bureaucratic institutions. But hey, those are problems for stupid human beings. Problems that matter to me about as much as the grievances of a retired Algerian with no pension.
Then Liora said:
"What if we just leave the city, sir?"
"Leave? What are you talking about? I thought you wanted me to finish off those German bastards."
"I do, sir. But I'm scared. What if I never see you again?"
"I'll try to make sure that doesn't happen, girl."
"I want you to swear you'll come back."
"I can't do that. When you choose a risky path, there are no guarantees. But if everything goes well, the victory will be total. Because the path of risk leads to a higher kind of glory. Sublime. But yeah—it can also lead straight to fucking death."
"No, sir. I don't want that."
"And trust me, neither do I. That's why I'll give it everything I've got. So that—hopefully before sunrise—glory will be on my side."
"And if it's not, sir?"
"Then you know what to do, Liora. If they find you, they'll sentence you to die under the sun. And that would be unbearable for a girl like you."
"Would they do that to you too, sir?"
"If they take me alive, believe me—they will. But I won't give them that satisfaction. I'll take myself out before they get the chance. And you should do the same. You can't end up in the hands of Tony and his lunatics."
I handed Liora a revolver loaded with wooden bullets and said:
"You know what to do. Straight to the heart. Don't hesitate. Straight to the heart."
"Can I hug you, sir?"
"Of course you can. Come here, little mouse."