Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

The Enigma · (06-26-2014)

Monday June 2, 2014 – 11:53 PM EST – East 149th Street – Bronx, New York

Let me start off by saying that I never wanted to end up this way. In fact, if you were to look at my life from the outside you would inevitably find yourself wondering how it is that I could have become what I am. By all rights I lived a privileged life. I had so many things going for me, things that like most privileged kids I took for granted. People would have killed to grow up the way I did. In fact people told me as much. I should have been a doctor or a lawyer, hell, even the President of the United States. All three of those futures were well within my reach if I had cared enough to seize them. But I didn’t.

Call it complacency, call it absentee parenting, call it teenage rebellion but what I could have been, what my parents wanted me to be were never on my radar. Especially when you consider that what my father wanted, more than anything in the world was for his son, his only son, to be just like him.

The irony of which is that I did just that. I just didn’t become the part of him that the world saw. The world saw a great man, a loving father, a caring husband, a pillar of the community. They saw a man who used his wealth not just for himself but for various charitable organizations. I saw something dark, something evil, something sadistic. And it was that part of my father that I took on for myself. And just like my father, I hide it from the world, I hide my true self from the world.

A wise man once told me that all CEO’s are sociopaths, they are organized, they are planners and they don’t mind playing games with people’s lives. My father was a every bit the textbook definition of that. At home he destroyed the lives of our entire family, in the work place he did whatever he wanted, the consequences of his actions didn’t matter, at the end of the day he still got paid, and paid handsomely. It allowed for the lavish lifestyle we had all become accustomed to. It allowed my father to shield his true self from the world, and for a while from me, but all great frauds slip up sooner or later. It’s just a matter of who is around to catch them.

In my father’s case that someone was me.

But enough about my past, let’s talk about the present.

New York City. They say it’s the city that never sleeps. And if I am any indication they are absolutely right.

Truthfully, it makes complete sense. There is too much going on in this city while the moon is out to just sleep the night away.

After all, night time is when the freaks come out to play. And who better to play the part of the freak than a man with a mask?

What exactly do I do at night?

That’s the billion dollar question isn’t it? Well allow me to show you.

The street we are currently on East One Hundred and Forty Ninth Street, is one of the four converging roads, along with Willis, Melrose and Third Avenues that makes up the theater, retail and restaurant center of the South Bronx borough. This area been known as “The Hub” for several decades as well as the “Broadway Of the Bronx” as it’s set up is similar to that of a much smaller scaled Times Square.

There are many seedy areas of New York City, more specifically in the Bronx and while this area is not seedy, rather the opposite, it does however due to its collection stores and restaurants bring with it a collection of people, many of which are nothing more than soul sucking leaches, perpetual drains on society. Sure they have jobs, they pay their taxes, they vote but why do they work? So they can afford their lavish lifestyles. They don’t give to charity, they don’t care about others. Everything they do, everything anyone ever does any more is for the betterment of their own lives. Their spending their nights and their money in The Hub is a prime example of them doing what they want because they can. It’s about doing the things that make them feel better. Even if it means hurting others in the process.

For example the man standing fifty yards in front of me, in the black “Coldplay” t-shirt and jeans. His name is Philip Lex. Philip works as the Vice President of PNC Bank down in Manhattan. Recently married, baby on the way. On the outside he seems like the typical American. Good paying job, wife who is a teacher, nice small family, house with a white picket fence out in the suburbs, the picture perfect life right?

Wrong.

Mr. Lex on top of being a well paid executive, father to be and husband is also a well known scumbag.

His crime?

He’s a pedophile. Thankfully he has not made the transition from looking to touching but it’s only a matter of time. It always is. When it comes to perverts like this, it’s always a matter of when, not if.

How do I know this? Because Philip isn’t my first and short of a lobotomy or other unlikely event he will not be my last. My plan was to end him tonight, before he could make that transition from being an onlooker to actually acting upon his sick and perverted impulses.

Notice I said my plan was to end him and not is to end him. Why the sudden change? Well, not only is Philip a pedophile he is also an adulterer as evidence by the leggy blonde that he is all over while they stand in line outside of the “Reign” night club hoping for admittance. I wonder what his wife would think if she saw this? In fact, I wonder what she is thinking right now. Where does she think her husband is exactly? Taking part in a late business meeting? Or maybe off whining and dining some prospective clients. But no, he is not doing either of those things. Instead he is playing grab ass with a woman who appears to be ten years his junior, waiting outside of a night club. Where upon once inside he will consume mass quantities of alcohol, possibly mixed with some drugs and then who knows what will come after that.

Unfortunately I will not be able to monitor Philip once he enters the night club places like that just aren’t my scene. So I have one of two choices, wait for him to leave, which would not be for several hours, or, pack it in and try this another night. I know where Philip lives. I know where he works. I know his routine probably better than his secretary does. Finding a more suitable time and place, one with fewer witnesses to do what needs to be done really wouldn’t be all that difficult.

I guess that settles that Philip the scumbag gets to breath for at least one more night. Lucky him.

As I make the trip home I contemplate all the ways in which I had envisioned this night going. Walking away empty handed so to speak was not one of those ways. But what else could I do? There were too many witnesses outside and inside the club and there was a good chance that once Philip left he would accompany the blonde home to wherever it is she lays her head down at night another potential witness, another potential problem. It had to happen his way. That’s what I will tell myself in hopes that at some point I finally start to believe it.

I am not used to failure, and no matter how much I try and dress this up that is what tonight was a; failure. Fortunately there will be time to correct it.

As I make my way up the elevator shaft and towards the door to my loft I get a sudden sense of foreboding. Did I miss my chance? Is Philip going to make that transition before I get to him? Was this all a mistake? As I turn the key to the door and open it something still doesn’t feel right, the blinds and shifting in the wind and then it hits me, I don’t remember leaving the window open.

And then it see it…

Earlier I told you that I am a man who wears a mask. What I did not tell you is that I meant that metaphorically. My mask is what I wear to keep the world from knowing who I am, who I truly am at my core. The world can see my face, what they can’t see is what is inside. They can’t see what goes on in my mind and what goes on in my heart that is my mask, my façade.

Now why am I telling you this you ask?

Well because just now a man in a real mask has unveiled himself in my apartment and I have the sickening feeling that his mask will be the last thing that I ever see.

ENIGMA: “My name is Enigma. These are your last moments. Use them wisely.”

Fade to black.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Victim - Part 1: RP 1
Author	Message