Duke Baxter sat comfortably in his leather chair. He had paid a lot of money to achieve this level of comfort and was pleased to see it lived up to its cost.
He looked back at the group of ragged, dirty imbeciles in front of him with disgust. He could not believe their level of utter stupidity.
"So, let me get this straight," he began, "I sent ten of you to bring me back one girl and not one of you could complete the mission."
Duke looked at each one of them, waiting for a response.
"Well?" he asked.
One of the men on his left cleared his throat to speak.
"Sir, though we outnumbered the group, we were not prepared for their level of proficiency in combat. We were particularly shocked by the target. She managed to injure one of our best soldiers," the man said, pointing to a man who was cradling his wrist.
Duke looked at the soldier with the broken wrist and burst out laughing. He could not believe the little brat was actually capable of such violence. It amused and angered him at the same time.
He called the man to come closer. The man did so nervously, still holding his wrist.
"You were the one assigned to bring in my daughter?" Duke asked. He looked straight into the injured man's eyes.
The man nodded his head, shaking slightly.
"Do not fret, my good man, there will always be another chance," Duke said jovially, "In fact, that wrist of yours must be throbbing by now. Let me pour you a drink. It will take off the edge."
Duke reached into a cupboard under his desk and brought out a new bottle of tequila. He also brought out a couple of shot glasses.
He served up the drink and reached for a large metal ball on his desk. He pressed a button, revealing some salt and limes, and passed them to the man along with the drink.
The man quickly went through the process, drinking the tequila quickly and finishing with a big smile.
"Better?" Duke asked.
The man nodded.
"Would you like more?" Duke asked, smiling.
The man nodded again without hesitation.
Duke served the drink again and smiled at the man.
As the man reached for the drink, Duke grabbed the heavy metal ball and slammed it down on the man's good wrist.
The man screamed in agony, as he rapidly drew back his arm. Tears flowed freely from his eyes.
Duke stood up and grabbed him by his collar, causing him to fall forward on his injured wrists. This made the man to release another shout of pain.
"Your first mistake was having the audacity to come here after failing a mission. Your second mistake was thinking that I would waste another drop of my tequila on a pitiful mess like you. Now, get out of my house."
Duke pushed the sobbing man away from him and sat back down. He would not spare another thought on the man.
The rest of the soldiers stared straight ahead as the man dragged himself out of the door.
"As for the rest of you, do not think you have managed to escape my wrath. You will all be punished later. Give me an hour to come up with a suitable sentence. For now, you are dismissed," he said.
The men saluted him before heading to the door.
"Here's a little advice for all of you. The next time you fail me, pray I never lay eyes on you again. Because if I do, my face will be the last thing you ever see in this world."
*****
Hours later, Duke was once again sat in his chair. He had just finished dealing out his punishments to the men. He recalled their pain-laced screams with glee.
He glanced at the clock and saw it was very late, so he decided to head to bed. As he walked down the silent halls, a spike of pain pierced through his head.
"Not again," Duke whispered, "Please, not now."
Duke grabbed his head with both hands, as the pain spread through his body. He leaned against the walls and began to shake vigorously. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs.
Thud Thud Thud
"Get to the room. It's in the room," he thought.
He pushed himself off the wall and stumbled towards his room, sweating profusely.
Once he had got in, Duke went straight to a small, metal box on his desk.
He opened the box with shaky hands, revealing several syringes filled with neon green liquid. Duke quickly grabbed one of the syringes and was about to plunge it into his arm, when he was stopped by a voice in his head.
Don't do it, Duke.
Duke wanted to scream in frustration. He was too late.
"Oh, just leave me alone." Duke said. His eyes narrowed in anger at the sound of the voice.
You know I can't do that, Duke.
Another burst of pain flared through Duke and he attempted to plunge the needle into his arm once again. This time he was physically incapable of doing it.
I told you not to do it.
"I don't care!" screamed Duke, hitting his head with his palm.
Stop it! That will only hurt you more.
"I don't care," repeated Duke, in a slightly softer tone.
The voice was quiet for a few minutes, before it spoke again.
Look at what you have become, Duke. How did you get to this point?
Duke glanced at the mirror in front of him and was shocked by his appearance. His face was gaunt and pale, with sweat pouring down it. His eyes were wild with dark circles around them. His hair was standing up in certain areas but flattened in others.
Can't you see what they are doing to you?
Duke raised a trembling finger and pointed at the mirror.
"They haven't done anything to me! This is all because of you. They tried to help me," he said.
Help you, Duke? They used you. They made you into their guinea pig. They preyed on your weaknesses and caused you to become something that you aren't. You used to be a great man, Duke. Now, you're just a junkie waiting for his next fix.
"SHUT UP, ELAINE! I AM LIKE THIS BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T HELP ME. ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS GIVE ME THE CRONUS FORMULA AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE. BUT YOU DIDN'T, AND NOW I HAVE TO LIVE OFF THIS FAKE SUBSTITUTE," Duke screamed, lifting up one of the syringes.
You know that they will never let you near that formula. They are deceiving you. If they ever get the formula, they won't hesitate to toss you out.
"LIES, ALL LIES!" Duke said, shaking his head. The pain had become excruciating. He knew if he wanted some relief he had to do something quickly.
Before he could think about it, he punched through the mirror in front of him. He felt Elaine's shock through the connection as the glass pieces bit into his arm. He used her distraction to stab the syringe into his arm, releasing the green liquid into his blood.
Instantly, the tremors faded from his body. His vision cleared and his face became full and bright, once again. He no longer felt Elaine's hold on his body.
Duke reached down and brought out a picture from the drawer below.
It was taken several years ago, at Sephora's first birthday. In the picture, he carried Sephora with one arm and held Elaine with the other. They were all smiling happily in the picture. The love they had for one another was obvious.
Duke looked down at his bloody, mangled arm and the box of syringes.
Was it really worth it?
He watched his hand heal in front of him and shook his head. After everything he had done, it had to be worth it.
He tapped into the connection he had with Elaine, knowing she could no longer feel him, and looked for Sephora through her. It seemed like she was heading to Portugal.
Duke knew exactly where Elaine was leading her. There was no time for sleep. He had to start making plans.
He looked around the room again, his eyes stopping at the shattered mirror. Pieces of the mirror still held on to its frame.
He had looked into that mirror several times but as he stared at it now, he knew it had never given him a more accurate reflection.
A/N: Hi everyone! I wanted everyone to get a glimpse of who Duke Baxter is and bring a little bit more to him other than being a bad guy. I hope I was able to pass that across. So, I have a couple of questions.
1. What do you think of Duke's addiction? Does it excuse his behavior?
2. Do you think he can change?
Also, don't forget to vote and comment. I would love to hear your answers to these questions.