Mastermind
The skeletal body belied the mastermind. Through the scrawny shoulders and sunken cheeks, the sheen of a body wilting away for lack of nourishment was blatantly obvious. The eyes had lost their shine, their hollow, yellowed depths forever watering in an effort to keep the eyeballs from falling out. Every vertebrate on the spine was singly visible, each column a sharp emboss on the surface of thin, pale skin. Legs twisted and mangled, almost as if the mastermind had polio; barely supported his weight. Crutches by his side and a respirator attached to his hip bone, he was the most unlikeliest candidate for the monumental task.
The interviewer shifted nervously, the stifling heat and the ugly appearance of her subject causing a deep sense of terror within her heart. She did not want to be here. Not in the lair of this beast. Not today of all days, when her famous bravado had clearly left the building.
He sat across from her, more like lay in the chair, his body draped in whichever way the servant had draped him. Everything about his body was decaying.
Everything but his hands. Strong fingers, long and elegant despite the fragile looking bones underneath. The only fleshy part of his body was his palms. The knuckles white against the almost reddish hue surrounding them.
The awareness in those watery eyes was not a facade either. Lurking within the cages of those bluer than blue eyes was a beast. An intelligent, sharp, egoistical beast.
He continued to study the interviewer, curious as well as fascinated. Her body did not fascinate him. It was after all, only a matter of few years before her body would bend in the wind, wrinkles lining her face and bones cracking under the onset of arthritis. She would be like him one day. Everybody had to. There was no escaping age. Or death.
He was not interested in her body, No.
Her mind.
It fascinated him. Her mind, a chaos of chemical reactions and nerves firing away impulses. Strings upon strings of electrical pulse shooting across a network of wires. The brain was the most fascinating aspect of a persona.
Not very unlike the internet.
His domain.
She cleared her throat, in a useless effort to get his attention. Useless because his attention never wavered. It had not escaped his notice that she kept shaking her leg in a giveaway gesture of nervous energy. He had noted the shifty darting of her eyes, how she kept eyeing the exit, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here.
Most people reacted like this around him. His appearance made them nervous. His secretary told him it was because he was too fragile looking to be the 'Mastermind'. Personally he thought it was because his body reminded people of their own mortality. Or the cost of achieving everything he had.
For it was true. No great achievement came at a cheap price. And his achievement was the greatest of all.
"Mr.-" she said, halting in order to ruffle through her papers. She didn't know what to call him. He snorted the sound so soft that nobody heard it. Not even himself. But for the expulsion of a soft whoosh of air, it wasn’t even a snort.
She didn’t know what to call him. Ah the binds of social politeness. How trifling!
"You may call me 'Mastermind'."
She looked up, color instantly filling her cheeks. The healthy glow of blood circulation. How he missed that on some days!
"Right. So Mr. Mastermind-"
"Simply 'Mastermind' is enough." he interjected, already tired of this young chit of a woman who cowered before him. Couldn’t they send him someone with real gumption?
"Alright. 'Mastermind', can you tell us why you agreed to this interview? You've hardly been the social kind for so long."
He sighed. Useless question. "I'm dying." he said. She looked shocked, taken aback, even a little repulsed. He continued. "My body fails me every day. The strength has left every part except my hands."
Almost as if his mind knew that his hands needed that extra strength. His brain continued to function too.
He housed two parasites, the sneaky SOB's taking away the nourishment from every other sector to feed but two areas. His mind. And his hands.
He did not regret it.
"I see more and more the approach of death. Swift, unexpected death."
Others prayed for a death that took you in sleep. "Mastermind' dreaded it. For that left him with no time to plan. No time to set things in order. And now was the time to set things in order.
"My death affects many. My death shall not cause chaos," he vowed.
The interviewer rolled her eyes, the drama a tad much even in the face of the terror. "What is your last wish?" She asked.
"I need to ensure that my name lives on. That my legacy lives on."
"What steps have you taken for that?"
He closed his eyes, re-examining his decision. Now was not the time to doubt. Now was the time to take a name. A name that would eventually step into his shoes as the 'Mastermind'.
"I shall appoint an heir. Someone who will look after my empire."
"And who are you naming your heir?"
"Him," he said, pointing towards another cloaked figure standing nearby.
The interview ended soon after. The girl left.
'Mastermind' sat on his throne, the chair swiveling. The cloaked figure stepped up to him.
"My liege, are you sure?"
Doubts. Hundreds of them swarming like a honeycomb of bees. But no. The decision had been made.
"My followers would appreciate the continuance," he croaked.
The cloaked figure nodded, moving away.
'Mastermind' pulled his throne closer to the computer screen. Twitter loaded in a second.
"This is my last tweet to you, my three million followers. This is my last tweet as 'Mastermind'. It has been a pleasure ruling your lives for so long. But now the dark evening of my life is near. So I give you the next 'Mastermind.' Give him the same love and adoration you gave me. Until he makes a eulogy, taklia."
The interviewer shifted nervously, the stifling heat and the ugly appearance of her subject causing a deep sense of terror within her heart. She did not want to be here. Not in the lair of this beast. Not today of all days, when her famous bravado had clearly left the building.
He sat across from her, more like lay in the chair, his body draped in whichever way the servant had draped him. Everything about his body was decaying.
Everything but his hands. Strong fingers, long and elegant despite the fragile looking bones underneath. The only fleshy part of his body was his palms. The knuckles white against the almost reddish hue surrounding them.
The awareness in those watery eyes was not a facade either. Lurking within the cages of those bluer than blue eyes was a beast. An intelligent, sharp, egoistical beast.
He continued to study the interviewer, curious as well as fascinated. Her body did not fascinate him. It was after all, only a matter of few years before her body would bend in the wind, wrinkles lining her face and bones cracking under the onset of arthritis. She would be like him one day. Everybody had to. There was no escaping age. Or death.
He was not interested in her body, No.
Her mind.
It fascinated him. Her mind, a chaos of chemical reactions and nerves firing away impulses. Strings upon strings of electrical pulse shooting across a network of wires. The brain was the most fascinating aspect of a persona.
Not very unlike the internet.
His domain.
She cleared her throat, in a useless effort to get his attention. Useless because his attention never wavered. It had not escaped his notice that she kept shaking her leg in a giveaway gesture of nervous energy. He had noted the shifty darting of her eyes, how she kept eyeing the exit, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here.
Most people reacted like this around him. His appearance made them nervous. His secretary told him it was because he was too fragile looking to be the 'Mastermind'. Personally he thought it was because his body reminded people of their own mortality. Or the cost of achieving everything he had.
For it was true. No great achievement came at a cheap price. And his achievement was the greatest of all.
"Mr.-" she said, halting in order to ruffle through her papers. She didn't know what to call him. He snorted the sound so soft that nobody heard it. Not even himself. But for the expulsion of a soft whoosh of air, it wasn’t even a snort.
She didn’t know what to call him. Ah the binds of social politeness. How trifling!
"You may call me 'Mastermind'."
She looked up, color instantly filling her cheeks. The healthy glow of blood circulation. How he missed that on some days!
"Right. So Mr. Mastermind-"
"Simply 'Mastermind' is enough." he interjected, already tired of this young chit of a woman who cowered before him. Couldn’t they send him someone with real gumption?
"Alright. 'Mastermind', can you tell us why you agreed to this interview? You've hardly been the social kind for so long."
He sighed. Useless question. "I'm dying." he said. She looked shocked, taken aback, even a little repulsed. He continued. "My body fails me every day. The strength has left every part except my hands."
Almost as if his mind knew that his hands needed that extra strength. His brain continued to function too.
He housed two parasites, the sneaky SOB's taking away the nourishment from every other sector to feed but two areas. His mind. And his hands.
He did not regret it.
"I see more and more the approach of death. Swift, unexpected death."
Others prayed for a death that took you in sleep. "Mastermind' dreaded it. For that left him with no time to plan. No time to set things in order. And now was the time to set things in order.
"My death affects many. My death shall not cause chaos," he vowed.
The interviewer rolled her eyes, the drama a tad much even in the face of the terror. "What is your last wish?" She asked.
"I need to ensure that my name lives on. That my legacy lives on."
"What steps have you taken for that?"
He closed his eyes, re-examining his decision. Now was not the time to doubt. Now was the time to take a name. A name that would eventually step into his shoes as the 'Mastermind'.
"I shall appoint an heir. Someone who will look after my empire."
"And who are you naming your heir?"
"Him," he said, pointing towards another cloaked figure standing nearby.
The interview ended soon after. The girl left.
'Mastermind' sat on his throne, the chair swiveling. The cloaked figure stepped up to him.
"My liege, are you sure?"
Doubts. Hundreds of them swarming like a honeycomb of bees. But no. The decision had been made.
"My followers would appreciate the continuance," he croaked.
The cloaked figure nodded, moving away.
'Mastermind' pulled his throne closer to the computer screen. Twitter loaded in a second.
"This is my last tweet to you, my three million followers. This is my last tweet as 'Mastermind'. It has been a pleasure ruling your lives for so long. But now the dark evening of my life is near. So I give you the next 'Mastermind.' Give him the same love and adoration you gave me. Until he makes a eulogy, taklia."
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