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Angel of Death

Other men, lesser men, measure power in terms of money or political influence or sexual conquests. But I have seen what true power is, and it is not found in checkbooks, voting booths, or bedrooms. No, true power is the power of life and death. Every time I end a life, I end a universe. Yes, a whole universe. The private cosmos that had been their world. The earth, sun, and stars, human history, culture, and art....all of it had existed, for them, only in their mind. Now they're dead, and, for them, those things exist no more. That is the secret I have learned. To wield power, ultimate power—the power to erase existence, void reality, blot out stars and galaxies with one stroke—it is not necessary to bring on Armageddon. It is necessary only to take a life. The God of the Old Testament is said to have created the world in six days. But I can wipe out a world in less than a minute, and I can do it whenever I please. Who, then, is the more powerful? Who is the greater god? The creator of one world—or the destroyer of many? _____________________________________________ *Discord: https://discord.gg/TeTKhzp Why not try my other book: King of Film or Rebirth of the Entertainment Giant

David_Tieku · Horror
Not enough ratings
119 Chs

Memories (1)

Victoria didn't know what to think as her husband held the door for her and she walked into the carpeted lobby of the restaurant. Shifu was wearing his dark glasses, even though it was evening, and he'd been wearing them all day around the house, which always made her uneasy, but now he was dressed to impress in his dark blue suit, a white shirt, and a maroon tie.

This was their favorite French restaurant, the place they always went to when they had something to celebrate. He'd specifically asked her to wear the dove gray Christian Dior suit he'd bought her a few months ago. As they went up to the waiter station together, out of the corner of her eye Victoria saw him take off the glasses and put them in his pocket. He smiled at the waiter as he gave him their name. She couldn't figure it out. Shifu seemed to be in a good mood, but the dark glasses made her suspicious. Was this really the good Shifu, or was it a new incarnation of the bad Shifu.

The waiter nodded to Shifu and raised his finger as if to say "just one moment." He turned and stepped into the dining room, waving his hand at the pianist until he caught the woman's eye. He nodded once to her, and she stopped what she was playing and started a new song. Victoria recognized it immediately, Kenny Rogers's "Lady." When the record had first become popular, Shifu declared it "her song," and whenever he was in a very good mood, he'd call ahead to the restaurant and make sure it was played for their arrival.

"Thank you, Shifu," she said as the waiter led them to their table.

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I haven't done that in a while."

"It's very sweet of you."

"Who else have I got to be sweet to?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand. But she was still suspicious.

As soon as they were seated, a waiter came and asked if they'd care for drinks. Shifu wasn't much of a drinker, but he did like wine with his meals. The waiter fetched the wine list for him, but Victoria already knew what he'd order, a good Montrachet, their favorite red wine. The ones Shifu ordered were never less than a hundred dollars a bottle.

The waiter returned with the bottle of Montrachet and showed Shifu the label. He nodded his approval, and the waiter uncorked the wine, placing the cork in front of Shifu, then poured a little into his glass. Shifu took a sip, looked down, and considered it for a moment, then told the waiter it was very good. The waiter filled Victoria's glass first, then Shifu's, then left to let them study the menu.

Victoria forced herself not to look at Shifu over the top of her menu. She wasn't convinced that this was really the good Shifu, and she knew from experience that anything could set the bad one off, though she was usually safe in public. Most times he saved his temper for behind closed doors. But not always.

There was the time she'd talked back to him at the house. He didn't sit on his temper that time. The explosion was immediate.

Victoria's father had been scheduled to undergo surgery that morning in Florida, and she was anxious to hear how he was. She and Shifu weren't even dressed yet when the call came from her father's wife, and Victoria took it in their bedroom. She was understandably relieved when she heard that the surgery had been a success and her father would be fine. As she hung up the phone, Shifu was just coming out of the bathroom in his underwear.

''So is the bastard dead?" he asked with a smirk.

She stared at him, stung by the senseless cruelty of his remark. "That wasn't necessary," she snapped back.

His face froze, and his eyes narrowed. Then she saw that look that always terrified her. His eyelids fluttered, and the eyeballs rolled back for a split second the same way a shark's does just before it's going to bite.

Panic filled Victoria's chest. She was already backing j toward the door when he lunged.

"You do not talk back to me," he yelled. "Do you understand that? You do not talk back to me!''

She broke free from his grasp and ran down the steps into the living room, then down the flight of stairs to the front hallway, like a deer being chased by a grizzly bear. Though she was in her slippers and bathrobe, she didn't hesitate to throw the front door open and run out into the snow. Outside she'd be safe, she figured. He never showed his temper in public. She stood on the sidewalk, out of breath, clutching the robe close around her neck, wondering how long she'd have to wait before he calmed down and she could go back in.

But then the sound of the electric garage doors startled her. As the doors rose, an engine roared to life, and she saw the tailpipe of the red Calais spewing out exhaust on the cold air. The car screeched out of the garage in reverse. Shifu was behind the wheel in his T-shirt. He bellowed out the open window, "You do not talk back to me"

Victoria could see that he was out of his mind with rage.

She started to run. The sound of spinning tires was right behind her. He drove up onto the sidewalk, determined to run her down.

She ran for the next door neighbor's yard, slipping on the snow, heading for the big tree in the backyard. It was the only thing she could imagine that would protect her from the impact of the car.

She slipped once more before she reached the tree, falling on it, scrambling behind it, clutching it close, breathing so hard her chest hurt.

When she finally dared to peer around the tree, Victoria saw that the car was at an angle on the snow-covered front lawn. The engine was idling, and Shifu was behind the wheel, but it wasn't moving. He wasn't pursuing her anymore. She took a closer look and saw that Shifu was punching himself in the head, again and again, hitting himself hard with a closed fist. It was what he did when he was frustrated and couldn't vent his rage any other way. If he couldn't hit anyone else, he'd hit himself and mutter something about a system.

Reliving that horrible winter day, Victoria could feel her heart beat faster as she stared blankly at the menu in her hands. She refocused and started to read the selections quickly, afraid that Shifu would know what she was thinking.

''Do you know what you're going to order, Shifu?" she asked, looking over the top of her menu,

''Hmm."

Shifu wasn't looking at his menu. He was staring at something at the back of the restaurant.

Victoria turned around and saw two couples seated at a leather banquette. One of the men was gesturing with his arms, telling a story that was making the others howl with laughter. The man was heavyset with a fleshy, oblong face and thin dark hair combed straight back. His jeweled cuff links glittered as he motioned with his hands. The women were considerably younger than the men, and one of them looked like a high-class call girl. The two men looked like hoodlums.

The corners of Shifu's mouth drooped as he stared at the man telling the story. His eyes were narrow.

Victoria couldn't understand why this man was upsetting her husband. Her heart started to pound.

Liu Shifu touched his forehead where the scar was.

Victoria glanced quickly over her shoulder, but she didn't see any resemblance between this man and anyone she'd ever met. She shook her head, confused and anxious that their evening would be ruined after all, fearful that he would erupt right here in the middle of the restaurant.

He kept staring at the man. Suddenly Shifu's eyes shot back at her. "That guy sort of reminds me of Roy."

Victoria swallowed hard and looked down at her menu, praying to God that this wouldn't set him off.