President Leopold Marofo of the Republic of Madagascar was one of the biggest challenges my father had ever faced, before and after the formation of Schelar. He was also the reason I was currently President and with my new position, he became one of my biggest problems as well.
This is why it gladdened me to have this recorded and sent right to his mail. Gaylord Ralefy had bravely sold out his country to Leopold. Many of the men, militia that resisted us during the raid were Malagasy soldiers in poor disguise. I intended to teach them both a valuable lesson.
Still, the unfortunate Ralefy who'd found himself caught in something much bigger than he could handle squirmed and begged for mercy.
"What about your son, hm? You haven't mentioned him once in your time here I'm told, strange." His son was just as pitiful as he was, although, he'd gotten a much better cell and only cried out for food once every twenty minutes, obviously not comprehending the magnitude of his father's and now his sins against the state.
"Ah, yes, how is he." He bit out through sobs.
"He is dead." I deadpan.
His mouth hangs open, snot and tears mixing together, gradually falling in. he looked not quite shocked but rather confused, perhaps he hadn't fully processed what I'd just told him.
"I had his SOME of his limbs surgically removed and he died from the pain of his wrists, forearm and upper arm being sawed off...in that order, of course," I say casually, studying his face for any reactions.
Strangely, he seemed to take it all in with a cringe and asked, "Is that what you'll be doing to me? Please no. I beg of you spare me!!"
I raise an eyebrow at this. This man legit just disregarded the death of his son, more afraid for his own life. Disgusting.
"You are a pitiful man, Mister Ralefy," As I speak the fool nods, agreeing with my assessment of him, "Your son isn't dead, I just wanted to see the look of grief on your face but you surprise me with your inability to express such emotions."
Now his face expresses shock as he tries to redeem himself, stuttering lies and excuses at record speed.
"Shut up. It's time for you to suffer anyway." I rise to my feet and take off my blazer and loosen my tie as I step in front of the camera, adjusting it so It'd capture me in the shot as well.
Satisfied I go on to squat beside my cowardly prisoner, setting my head upon his head forcefully turning it to the camera, "Tell the camera if you feel the sensation of part of your arm being sawed off at any moment during this weapons test."
"What...Wha-weapons test? Please, I beg of you!" he struggled against his chains as I walked away.
There were so many questions that needed to be answered with pain infliction as I wasn't handed a manual when it was bestowed upon me, Mister Ralefy wouldn't be the only test subject.
I knock on the iron door of the cell and beckon a guard in, "Stand by him and observe. Let me know if he falls unconscious or dies." The guard's eyes betray his feelings, certainly squeamish about the instructions, but he gives an affirmative nod regardless and moves to his position.
And so I behind. I stare down Ralefy and exert my will as animated as it is onto him, and soon the imagined pain of wrists being sawed off was realized in real life as he began screaming louder than ever, clutching his wrists, wrists that had veins and arteries suddenly bulged to a maximum.
"Ahrgghh!!!! Make it stop, Please! Make it stop!!!!!" he cried out frantically, rolling all over the floor, grasping the swelling hand. The guard beside him looked thoroughly lost and confused, not knowing what exactly he should be doing with himself at the moment.
I smile and ease up, no longer exerting my wish for his suffering. His screams died down leaving him looking more relieved at the disappearance of the pain but confused as to what had caused it to disappear.
"Perfect," I notice his wrist still swollen from the trauma, the mind has more power over the body than we know it seems.
"What just happened?!" he questions still holding onto his swollen wrists with tears flowing unabated.
"That is none of your concern, Mister Ralefy. Now, at any moment you feel pain in your legs, let us know."
"Eh? Wait no st- Argghh!!!!"
Once I'd gotten a hang of it, switching it on and off with a slight thought, I let Mister Ralefy go.
Well, if we are being perfectly honest, Mister Ralefy escaped, unable to bear any more of my trials. This was quite unfortunate as I had many other things to test out with Pain infliction. The distance and scope of its power for example.
But these would need a great many…volunteers. I gave a good amount of thought into simply using the captured Chiefs and their followers but inevitably decided against it. They would serve a much greater purpose once I had them all gathered in my little basket of executions.
I headed back to the office and branched by Mireille's desk.
"Here," I said, setting the camera I used to video dear Ralafy's demise in her hands, "Get this to someone who can edit, make sure to let them know I want the message to be clear cut. They can cut out every other thing they deem necessary."
She nods carefully as she receives it with both hands. I nod along with her and smile, "You look good today." I remark. Today she'd worn something a lot less…trying. Less is more sometimes.
She smiles sheepishly as she tucks her hair behind her ear and mutters a shy thanks.
"Oh, almost forgot," I say, stopping myself from leaving with business unfinished, "Tell them to make the resulting video a onetime watch. I don't want it to be traced back to us.
"Yes, of course, sir." Again I move to take my leave but she wasn't done, "Uhm, sir? You had me schedule an appointment with Miss Leriva of Lynx Media? You were unavailable throughout yesterday and cancelled all appointments when you got back so she rescheduled."
Ahh…Leriva. I'd completely forgotten about her in the midst of preventing all-out war, "Ah well what the heck. Let her in within five minutes."
She gives an affirmative and I finally move into my office.
Miss Leriva was a character I hadn't met in any of my past lives, perhaps in those lives, she just never did anything to grab my attention or I never did anything to grab hers.
Either way, I appreciated the freshness her presence brought, aside from the dreadfully annoying scenarios I've passed through within the first month of this Rebirth, everyone and everything was the same as it was and always had been for over the hundreds of years I'd lived dying and being reborn. Matthias, Luciano, Mireille, Schelar and its problems, Madagascar and their incessant pestering's. It all felt quite boring.
But not Leriva.
The door swung open and there she was. Standing tall with what little length she had about her, wearing what I assumed was a yellow sundress with black floral designs scattered all over.
"Mister Fatah," her voice I'd never noticed sounded silky soft and smooth, pleasing to the ear of anyone to hear it, "I see you aren't dead." She lets on a smile as she says this, setting her small black purse on her lap as she took a seat I hadn't yet offered. Bold.
I let my amusement known with a smile, "Did anyone say otherwise?"
She crosses her legs and I catch a glimpse of the white stilettoes she wore so comfortably. "Well, you missed your own appointed inauguration, turning me into a liar," she says this with a heated glare set at me, "You never handed me the company yourself and you disappeared from the public eye for weeks."
"True, true, true."
She continues glaring, a frown setting itself on her face, "I didn't even have to cover the story of the mystery President we had and his disappearance. For days on end, your two right-hand men avoided questions about your whereabouts and eventually reporters started getting arrested when they came too close to Matthias or Luciano."
Her glaring look turns to outrage as I still haven't lost my smile, "Press censorship for days on end until Matthias came out with the truth at last. A coma…you had to be replaced by a cabinet…" her voice trails off, sounding less outraged and more…dejected.
"Did you miss me, Miss Leriva?" I ask, moving to take a seat beside her by my desk, "You sounded a bit sad right there."
"Oh, please don't flatter yourself!" she exclaims, rolling her eyes at me, "I just get emotional when it occurs to me how fleeting life is at times. That's all."
I let out a chuckle, pleased with her reaction. "Well then Miss Leriva, we have a lot to discuss. Where do we begin?"
Seemingly by instinct she pulls out a small recorder and points it at me, "How about what caused your coma?"