Caspar's POV.
Hearing my voice through the call brought them under my shoes. The ongoing quarrel ended up much faster than I had expected. That's because even if some officers are arrogant, they fear my existence. The power of my codename Xavier Hill is threatening to everyone.
You would wonder why it's threatening. It is because branches of the DarZ group are spread in every part of the world. My international members have professional identities hiding their codenames and following my orders. Many work in government officials' posts, many are in the military as high ranking officers. I'm not some Mafia who does drugs dealing, gold and diamond smuggling. I believe in a vast business empire and influential people.
Men and women working under DarZ group are influential people, trained warriors. Who can come and fight for me after receiving one text from me. That's the power I hold, I believe in my people and they believe in me. Ah,but I won't deny one thing, I'm a bloody murderer who likes to kill annoying people. No matter if they're criminals or cops, I care less about anyone.
"Ahem, Mr Xavier, we want to know the reason for your killing of local cop officers?" One of the directors asked through the conference call.
"Because I wanted to.”
"What? This is wrong, how can you kill cops with no valid reason? What will the higher ups say to the public for the murders of six cops officers?"
That director, including other directors with the same mentality, shouted at me aggressively. I swear to god, these few directors are getting on my nerves. Clenching my jaws together I fought the urge to curse those madmen. If only this was face to face talk in headquarters, I would have grabbed these directors by the collar and smashed their heads with my very own fists.
"Boss, if you are thinking of killing them then give up on that thought," Alex whispered near my ear.
"Shut the fuck up ," I cursed under my breath and focused back on the call.
"Arrange for the meeting in headquarters with directors who are against me, Chief Aron Baldwin. I think I have to knock some senses in their idiotic heads," saying that I ended the call.
I passed the phone to Alex and pulled out my cigarette box. Pulling out one cigarette from it, I lit it and inhaled the smoke. Puffing on it a few more times I felt relaxed, I'm very short tempered. I talk less because my guns and rifles talk more.
DING
A text notification floated on Alex's phone which he showed me. It says that directors have understood the reason I killed the cops and no longer wish to meet in headquarters. The message was sent by the chief himself which made me crack up.
"What the fuck? I thought they wanted some fight with me, how boring. They backed off."
"No one really wants to have a meeting with you because it's not going to be peaceful chatting or discussion," Alex confronted me sarcastically.
Finishing up my last puff on a cigarette, I casually added, "It's not my fault. I was raised to become a cold hearted Mafia Boss. Or should I say I dreamt of becoming a powerful man who is feared by all."
"Your dream was wild as fuck, Boss. I don't blame Madam for continuously scolding you. Other than her, no one really dares to talk to you in a loud voice."
I couldn't interpret if Alex was praising me or indirectly mocking me for being a ruthless man.
One hour later, the helicopter landed on my penthouse's roof terrace. I want to take a rest in my penthouse because it was 2 a.m. Alex and I went downstairs to my main sitting hall. Alex showed the pilot to the guest room while I left for my bedroom.
Throwing the rifle and guns on the floor, I walked inside the bathroom. When I saw my reflection in the huge wall mirror, I frowned. My black attire was drenched in blood, my face was glistening in the red shade of dried blood. My hair lingered over my forehead, between those disheveled hair strands my hazel eyes shimmered the green color of poison.
Then that damn reflection of mine smiled at me. I don't know if it's my hallucination or just my dark thoughts.
"Look at yourself man, you literally smell of blood and sweat. Do you even have a heart or are you just a dead shell?" My illusionary self commented sarcastically at me.
The reflection of mine in the mirror continued mocking me with those hateful remarks. I don't want to hear it anymore, it makes me feel guilty for the lives I've taken.
"Don't you feel bad for killing people? What are you? A god ? Or a devil in human disguise?" The hallucination talked again. I could feel the anger, disgust, hatred bottling up inside me.
How should I explain? To be honest I don't feel anything for killing people. I just like seeing their scared faces, begging me and crying for mercy. I love it all if that makes me a devil.
"Then I'll consider myself as the devil."
I coldly murmured under my breath whilst punching the mirror until it shattered down into pieces. My right hand started bleeding because of the pieces of glass stuck into my skin.
Covering my face with a bleeding hand, I smiled back at my reflection on the shattered pieces of mirror.
“I love giving pain, I love receiving pain, I'm a psychopath."
My sinister laugh filled the bathroom, people might think I'm crazy. So what if I'm crazy? So what if I'm psycho? I'm slaughtering bad guys for humanity. What is wrong if a few innocents are killed in the process?
"I have paid a price for this. Others are obligated to pay their price too. Peace comes with an expensive price," I scoffed, ripping off my clothes.
Stepping under the running cold shower, my mind cooled down. Sometimes my inner darkness feels like acting up. I believe good and evil are both inseparable. I have been walking the path of evil with a good plan. That's why I don't want to be tagged as a devil.
"You are the devil. You are fucking devil. You are a monster who kills."
The voices in my head kept getting louder and sharper than earlier. Finally I let out a loud growl of anger and passed out under the shower.