Authors: Veronica Melan
“All was going well, exactly according to plan until one moment... when the bullet pierced right through one of our guys. The rest of the team had gone, they dispersed and went ahead to finish off the mission. Only myself and Dell stayed behind.”
That was the second time he mentioned someone else’s name out loud, and I quietly placed it into my memory, wondering if this information could ever come handy in the future, unless, of course, my boyfriend doesn’t decide to play the memory trick after this chat.
“It was dark and every second was as valuable as gold. We only had seconds to decide whether we had a chance to pick up the wounded and finish the job. The grenades were exploding too close by and our hope seemed a bit far-fetched, but nevertheless it was there. I remember Dell looked at me and I instantly knew that we were thinking the same thing - we cannot leave our friend to die. The Commission probably could, but we couldn’t. Eventually they would replace him with another trained specialist, but we couldn’t replace a friend that easily.”
Hulk quietened down.
I swallowed, feeling as if it was me who was there that night, listening to the wind roaring in my ears, breathing in the air smelling of the gun powder, feeling the dust and sweat in my eyes. Only one more second and it will be your back that gest the next bullet...
“Did you save him?” I asked quietly.
“Yes.” Hulk replied simply, “We did.”
“And what happened with your mission?”
“It nearly failed. We put it at great risk on a few occasions, but eventually we achieved the result Drake wanted.”
Hulk’s voice became cold and distant as if he was back there, where all this occurred once again
“Was your boss unsatisfied that you’d broken his order?”
“Yes, “unsatisfied”, if you could apply that word to him. This is the Commission, Shereen, and things are much more complicated there than I am able to explain. They have many rules. One of them is to never violate their orders, so of course we were punished almost immediately after the mission.”
“Did you realise that you’re revealing their names to me?” I asked, nervously, interrupting Hulk.
“Of course, I did. I don’t say a word without thinking of dozens of other answers beforehand. I think in this case it’s more important to give you a sense that I trust you, rather than be scared that his information might hurt you.”
“Ok, then.” I relaxed and became all ears again.
“We were prosecuted, yes. The tribunal took place on the same night, but not in the presence of the other guys. They were only told that we’d both got punished for what we’d done, but they don’t know exactly what had happened to us.”
“Why weren’t they told? At least it could have been an example of what could happen to them should they break the rules. Isn’t that how Tally’s Supreme Court works?”
“That’s correct, but the Commission is not Tally. They knew if they go into details, then the guys would try to help us. We’d become real friends and Drake was aware of it. If one of them would’ve discovered where I was, then the others would’ve discovered it too and then they would’ve come up with the redemption plan shortly. But by trying to help us, they all would have been punished. It was safer to leave them in the dark in order to keep things under control.”
Hulk grinned bitterly and stopped talking. I felt his muscles tense.
“So you were exiled here without the right to come back.”
“Yes. I also don’t have the right to communicate with other members of my team and inform them about my whereabouts. However, the Commission allows me to contact other people in the “outer” world as long as I don’t try to leave Tally, so I’ve retained some of my connections.”
“They’ve locked you up here...” I whispered in shock, “...for good? How many years do you have to spend here before they decide that that’s enough?”
Hulk didn’t answer and that upset me the most.
Suddenly everything seemed different. Whereas previously, myself and other people with bracelets on their wrists were the prisoners, but we had a hope (illusionary hope, but still) to collect one thousand points and get free, while Hulk hadn’t got a chance like that. Somehow, this realisation genuinely shocked me and made me feel outraged, even furious, but I quietly buried this emotional whirlpool somewhere deep inside until a more appropriate time.
“And Dell? What happened to him?” I asked, anticipating that Hulk may not know or choose to remain silent. But, he answered.
“Dell was given a strange sentence, but no less monstrous. I don’t know whose freaky fantasy it was, but I’m glad I ended up in Tally rather than receiving his punishment.”
“Why?”
“Because he was handed the knife.”
Hulk told me more about the knife in the car on the way to the ranch. It was getting dark; the air got chillier, the air-conditioner hummed quietly, ventilating the air inside of the cabin.
From Hulk’s words, I understood that once the knife was given to his friend this made him a slave - and not in a metaphorical sense, but quite literally. Once this dagger was passed into someone's hands, Dell was obliged to serve and obey this person until the moment when it was given to someone else or is lost and subsequently found by a new owner. Then Dell would have to serve another person, continuing to remain completely constrained and not being able to choose his own actions.
I thought it must be truly awful, especially for people like Hulk, and if Dell had a similar personality which in Hulk’s opinion he had, then it was difficult to find a “better” hell for those who were used to rely solely on their own actions and loved freedom more than anything else. It was like taking a fish, cutting off its fins and tail and adding sulphuric acid, so their life wouldn’t seem as sweet as honey; and that’s exactly what Commission has done to Dell.
I shook my head. What kind of people are they?
Hulk was right - he didn’t get the worst punishment. Yes, Tally wasn’t a five start resort, but it wasn’t the most disgusting place either. In any case, it was possible to survive here even if you had to grit your teeth and abate your desires. But what was it like to be a slave for a stranger?, I couldn’t imagine at all - and not just a slave for one stranger, but a whole string of them, when you never know how long you’ll have to serve them for and who will become your next owner. Wasn’t that horrible? What if amongst those “owners” there was a mad old woman, drug addict, criminal or hysterical bitch? What kind of dark desires might appear in their minds as soon as they know that they have won a prize in a form of a strong six-foot male body, perfectly trained for killing?
I felt sincerely sorry for Dell and hoped that one day he would get the dangerous toy back in his own hands, if one of the “owners” would ever sacrifice their own pleasures for the sake of someone’s freedom.
“How long has it been since this happened?” I broke a long silence while we were both deep in thought.
“Since when?”
The Jeep was smoothly riding on the night road, my hand was resting on Hulk’s knee and he was gently stroking my fingers with his.
“Since you entered Tally and Dell was given the knife.”
“Almost three years.”
My head swayed when the wheel hit a pothole on the road.
Three years of living in Tally, in this mansion, ploughing and harvesting fields, trying to get used to the farmer‘s lifestyle. Three long years of slavery for Dell.
“And is he still serving those who own the knife? Hasn’t anybody released him and returned the knife?”
“I don’t know, Shereen. I’ve no idea.”
“Did the Commission ever tried to contact you here?”
“No.” Hulk replied quietly, and my heart felt heavy again.
“Do you miss them?” I asked him after a pause.
“My friends?”
“Yes.”
Hulk didn’t reply, but I already knew the answer, and so I did not expect any response to my rhetorical question; and, perhaps, for the first time since I lost my sight, I was glad I couldn’t see his face. The last thing I wanted to see was the pain in his grey eyes. I knew it was there, I could feel it.
Not knowing what to say and how to cheer Hulk up, I just gently squeezed his fingers, while my mind began working. My brain switched to a thinking mode, and was now scanning through all the possible options on “how to help Hulk”.
I think I’ve always been that sort of individual. I didn’t stand up too much for myself, but when it came to other people I’d immediately become highly motivated to act. First it was Alex, then the quarry workers, then the plantation workers and now Hulk’s happiness was at stake, so I had to think how to help him. The fact that I couldn’t see any opportunities to help right now didn’t mean that I wouldn’t think of something to help in the future.
So I tried to stay as optimistic as possible and prepared to wait.
The next few days, I remembered as the happiest days of my life; they were filled with joy, peace, complacency and a complete lack of worries. The nights were hot and passionate - Hulk enjoyed with concupiscence what he owned now (i.e., me) - taking, playing, caring, crushing, electrifying, calming and attacking again. He’d force me to merge with him, begging for more, immerse into a fire to the point of screaming, to the point of words of hate or pleading, and then, finally he’d spare me and we’d lie side by side as he, tired and relaxed would be looking at my smiling lips, stroking them with his thumb.
We talked about talking everything that would come to mind, we loved our morning breakfasts together and evenings on the balcony as I would sip a refreshing cocktail with mint, and he smoked one of his favourite flavoured cigars.
When we had some spare time away from the office, Hulk wouldn’t let me off his knees - being silly, laughing, stroking, caressing, and whispering sweet nothings in my ears. But at the same it, it felt like he was suffering from some mental anguish, which he still preferred to remain silent about.
I could sense his tension by the way he was touching my body - so insatiably, absorbing my every word, kissing me and at times squeezing my shoulder painfully, as if trying to put his permanent ownership mark on me; or when he would stroke me tenderly, without saying a word, deep in thoughts.
What he was thinking about in these moments was a complete mystery to me.
How could he be afraid of anything, if he was the only man I would love from now and forever? In order to erase any doubts from his mind, I’d often clutch his face with my hands and tell him how much I loved him. For a while Hulk would behave normally, but then he would start acting like a wounded animal going to lose his favourite toy. And then, again, he was taking, crushing, and then melting my inner being with his. Eventually it wasn’t possible to separate us and distinguish where one of us started and another finished. It was electrifying but also scary.
“Are you hiding something from me?” I’d ask him feeling worried.
But instead of answering, he’d only press me against himself tighter, and breathe in the smell of my skin as though it was the only thing that kept him alive.
Once, however, he answered.
“We’ll talk about it when you can see again.”
It made me sad.
“Ok. But I am scared.”
I was really nervous, feeling that something was hurting him from within. After all, there wasn’t a shadow of doubt in my heart, and I didn’t want anything to cloud his mind.
“You don’t need to be scared – all will be fine. I promise.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Yes.”
“Always?”
“Yes, one way or another.”
This answer didn’t comfort me at all, making me feel strange, but there wasn’t anything I could do. If he wants to wait until my vision is back, so be it. But whatever happens or is said, one thing I knew for certain - Hulk was mine, and he always will be. I will do everything possible so that my other half would never separate from me. This knowledge was feeding me with faith and strength, allowing me to be patient and prepared me to greet any twists and turns that our future had in store for us.
If Hulk confirmed he was mine - then this was true, and everything else was insignificant.