A Shrine to an Unknown God

THE BEETLE

THIS OBJECT, this beetle-looking-thing, is foreign to me, but I recognize its danger by the wild fear it breeds in Marisol. Tears welling in her eyes, she tries to scream, but with the air blocked off at her throat nothing comes out other than a gurgle. Her face is red as blood and contorted into something ugly as our tragedy masks.

I roll and slam my body into Alekos, knocking him off Marisol—who flinches and cries out as the weight is removed from her throat—the second that he squeezes the beetle. It lets out a bang! that ruptures my eardrums. A string of fire shoots out just over Marisol's skin. Thick sulfuric smoke fills the air.

I pause. Just for a second. Just long enough to decide . . .

I do not believe in senseless killings.

But I am a soldier, and sometimes death is justified.

Alekos did not give us a fair price, and offered us no other options or ways out. When Marisol tried to walk away, he responded with violence, while at the same time running from the fight like the coward scum he is. And Ezra, poor Ezra. What did he intend to do with Ezra? He used witchcraft to shoot fire from his beetle-like object, fully intending to kill Marisol.

He walked away from a fight he started. We have a saying on Apollonisi: return with your shield or on it. Mostly it means that you either win a war or die trying, but it also means that you never back down. Much less from violence that you created.

There is no honor in a man such as this. Nothing in his heart other than cowardice and cruelty. Nothing left for him to live for.

For the most part, people are good and deserve mercy. But Alekos, the man with snake eyes? This is what he deserves.

I roll on top of him, pinning him down as he had done to Marisol. He reaches for his beetle, but before his hands close around it, I slit his throat. The blood steams as it hisses out.