The Devil's Fate

by Massimo Russo

  Alex struggled to stay calm, but those words stung more than a thousand lashes. He saw his father a yard away from him. He waited for the right moment and then, with a leap like a lion, he pounced on him.

  A gunshot rang through the trees. Tommy couldn’t understand what was happening. He clearly heard angry words and felt hands clasping his throat, strangling him; the strength of that grip surprised him. Norman stared at the scene in disbelief. He didn’t recognise the man who had leapt on the individual who was about to kill him, but he thanked the fate that had been watching, and noted that he was indebted.

  Tommy couldn’t move; Alex’s strength was fueled by an anger that was unstoppable. He tried to wriggle away, but his efforts were in vain. He saw his gun a few inches away; it would only take a small movement to reach it and end this nightmare. His physical training, based on rigorous daily exercise, was worse than useless against that unexpected attacker. Alex, thanks to the harshness of his father’s barbaric methods, seemed too strong to beat.

  Norman watched with all the anxiety of a spectator who finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw the man who had charged from the bushes hanging on for dear life and the one who had led him down the path being throttled to death. Then, another gunshot signaled game-over. The winner, however, was still be be determined; that task had been left, as always, to fate, the only umpire capable of making such a decisive choice.

  Alex let go and stood up, swaying with fatigue; Tommy was still sprawled on his back. Their clothes were covered in blood. Alex looked at Norman, as if searching for a sign of approval and confirmation of his victory. He stepped forward, then the force of gravity took hold of his injured body and felled him. The winner was declared.

  Tommy flexed his legs and tried to stand up to finish the job he had started. Norman swiftly took the opportunity that presented itself, the only one that would turn things in his favor. He grabbed a heavy branch from the path beside him and flung himself at Tommy, striking him with a fury he hadn’t known he possessed. One blow was all it took to prevent him from getting up. Norman’s idea was to disarm him and tie him up and then wait for him to come round and make him confess where his son was hidden. He patiently began the job at hand. He picked up the gun and made sure Tommy was still unconscious. Then he turned to Alex and saw he was no longer breathing, was in fact dead. He searched for something to bind Tommy’s arms and legs together. He was exhausted, but couldn’t quit yet.

  There was nothing suitable in the vicinity, but as he looked around, he noticed a red heap at the end of the path that jarred with the green of nature. It couldn’t be a plant; it was the wrong season for such vibrant colors to be in bloom. Keeping an eye on the man he needed to tie up, he stepped closer to the patch of color. He couldn’t make out what it was until he was on top of it. It was a jacket, and it was too small for a man.

  “Will!”

  Yet again, panic became part of his life, a life that was more bedeviled than ever on that particular day. He tried to calm himself and then peered into the brambles. There was something else a couple of yards away. He plunged into the maze of branches, oblivious to the thorns scratching him. He focused on the scene before him: a pair of blue trousers discarded on the ground that resembled those worn by the boy he had recently met. Then, another image, more heart-wrenching than any he had seen until that moment. Will’s body was stretched out on the ground, wrapped in a nakedness that was too frail to be revealed and too intimate to be examined. As he rushed towards him, tears coursed down the furrows in his cheeks. He listened for a heart-beat, felt for a pulse on the ice-cold wrist, but couldn’t find one.

  “Will! Please, Will! Don’t leave me!”

  A thick fog shrouded his thoughts and a feeling of utter despair swept through his body. He wanted to die. He couldn’t imagine a more unexpected turn of events. He felt like a spectator who had been cheated by being sold the ticket of hope, and shown instead the film of resignation. He began to shake and an irrepressible urge to scream welled up inside him, but his voice was stifled by a lump in his throat so big it felt as if it were suffocating him. He heard voices in his head that muddied his mind, and lucid thought gradually faded away. He swung around slowly, looking for help he wouldn’t find, a word of comfort he wouldn’t receive. All he could hear were indistinct, wailing voices he couldn’t put a face to. He circled round a few times in an attempt to find a way out of the labyrinth his mind had trapped him in. He fell down heavily, bumping his face on the slippery ground, and his sight misted over. He tried to get up, but was overcome by the pain that seemed to have found a home in that spot. The voices in his head multiplied, swamping any attempt to move his body, battered as it was by emotions so devastating that a human body can barely absorb them.

  “Norman!”

  He heard his name echoing from a direction he struggled to locate.

  “Norman! Wake up!”

  He tried to obey the voice, so clear and unmistakably gentle, but panic hindered his movements.

  “Norman! Norman!”

  The fog in his mind began to lift. He could vaguely see his mother holding Will’s hand and his father smiling, pointing the way out of the pain. But the path was blocked by the man he should have tied up, and beside him was Luc, grinning at the image in the mirror he was holding, the image of himself ranting about being old, while Dustin sat opposite him, sucking his life out through a straw stuck in his heart.

  “Norman! Wake up! Norman!”

  Suddenly, everyone started to burn in the rays of a light so bright it was impossible to look at or extinguish. He lifted his hand to ward it off, until he saw in that light the hope he had always dreamed of finding. In the midst of all that desperation, he couldn’t help but notice that love was saving him. Deep down, he had probably never doubted it, not even for one second.

  Capitolo 44

  Consciousness took firm hold on the reins of his life. He woke up with a start. The room and its lights were familiar. He recognized Julia’s voice, the voice that had led him out of the world he had been trapped in.

  “Julia!”

  He looked deep into her eyes, where he had lost himself a thousand times and where he still felt the need to go to rediscover the peace and love he had searched for in dreams that didn’t belong to him.

  “My darling, you had a nightmare.”

  The gentleness of those words and her embrace gradually gave back to him the serenity he had lost. His heart was beating more regularly, even though he still found it hard to breathe normally.

  “It’s all right, Norman. I’m here. It was only a bad dream.”

  “Julia! It all seemed so real! I was terrified I’d lost you.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you. You’re the only one who can make me happy.”

  Norman burst into tears. The force of his feelings made it impossible to stay calm.

  “Forgive me, my darling. I’ve been so stupid. I’ve neglected us and everything we are lately. I lost sight of the sense of things and was chasing around after trivialities and situations that had nothing to do with me.”

  “It doesn’t matter, my love, you’re here with me now. Wherever you’ve been and whatever dream you’ve been following, you’re back here now. Let’s put it all behind us and start over. What do you say?”

  He gazed at her as her smile restored to him the life that for a moment he had feared he had lost. In that instant, he understood that everything he had dreamed of his whole life was in her arms and all he wanted was to reciprocate the love he had been given with no half measures. The sense of everything was enclosed in that instant. There was desire, full of pride for being fulfilled. There was purpose, irreverent in the face of doubt. There was torment, vexed by the endless search. And there was love, infinitely truer than any other form of truth. Norman realized that he needed nothing more to begin building a life based on gratitude for a pure feeling, life-giving nectar for an entire existence.


  “Thank you for being here and staying with me. Thank you for all the joy your caresses bring me while I let myself be carried to an oasis of pleasure. Thank you for all your acts of kindness. Thank you for every riddle you explained as I drifted aimlessly, unable to understand life. Thank you for reaching out to my heart and consoling it as it tried to burn its silly weaknesses. I love you, as I never loved you before, because I was too busy making sure I was alive.”

  They kissed, letting time choose whether to stay and watch or pass by without making a sound. Norman was happy. He had been to hell and spoken to the devil and to his fate, and then had decided to start living. Julia watched him, content in their togetherness, and everything around them was perfect.

  “You know what we’re going to do now, sweetheart? I’m going to get out of bed and make breakfast. Then we’ll sit on the couch and you can tell me all about your bad dream and I’ll hold you tight to remind you it’s over. We’ll leave your office to its own fate today and my job can go to hell.”

  “You’re on. It’s ages since we’ve had a day to ourselves. Off you go then, I’m famished.”

  They kissed with all the love they felt for each other and Julia padded into the kitchen. Norman got up and looked at himself in the mirror with not a little fear and trepidation. No lies were reflected in the image he saw. He could see himself clearly now, an enterprising young man in love with his life and his woman, willing to do anything for her, even to give his life as his had been given to him. He noticed a book on the bed. A smile spread through his being and onto his face. A twinge of fear tried once more to take possession of his soul, but he thrust it back into the compartment allocated to it in his mind. He picked the book up and leafed through it; inside were the poems he had written for Julia, which she had painstakingly transcribed one by one. He sat down and began to read one.

  I saw you in the midst of a crowd as you gathered the strength to look for me, as everything around you was sacrificed for a moment’s happiness in the belief that it could be obtained in exchange for time.

  I heard you breathing among a million breaths, pinpointing the thoughts your heart whispered, while everything was being swallowed by the will to forget.

  I’ve loved you from the very moment consciousness became real, since I began to search for that part of me I don’t know, since I began to believe in the existence of the perfect moment.

  I met you so that I could be happy at last, ignoring those forces of evil that can only envy every kind of love I feel for you.

  He had never before read with such passion. He stopped for a while to reflect. Then he took up a biro and began to write words that would sweeten a mind that had traveled through bitter dreams.

  I live.

  If I only knew what that meant, I might even understand the purpose of what the world takes for granted, despite doubts in endless conflict between those that stay and those that wander. Because, at the end of the day, nothing much can be done without education. Various solutions are devised, but there’s no right or wrong result. You wonder if it’s worth staying or going. Yes, but where? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe willpower is sometimes merely one of fate’s paragraphs, or simply fate allowing the illusion of choice.

  I live.

  I’m continuing a search I left unfinished for a long time, while I chased a dream so that I wouldn’t have to give up the thrill of catching it. I may be disappointed, because once I have it within my grasp, I’ll want to buy another by selling myself, possessed by the craving to become great. Until, on a day like any other, I’ll be awoken by the desire to find some sense in what I’ve done and what, on the other hand, I am.

  I live.

  Unable to live through a day without doubting I’m here, but certain I’m not alone. Because it’s better to know something can be shared, if only for a moment. Because no one can remain apart. Because truth is the only justice left for those who seek an answer, whether right or wrong.

  I live.

  Because I can’t kill my dreams. Because essentially it is the only wonderful thing worth doing.

  He closed the book, for what he thought was the last time. He would never write another line that might distance him from a life he had been incapable of living. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. He was excited about letting her read what he had just written for her. He was already relishing his reward.

  “It’s ready, darling. Sit down. Here you are. Here’s today’s paper too.”

  “Ah! You’re spoiling me now.”

  “That’s all I aim to do today. I’m going to take a shower now. Give me ten minutes and I’ll give you eternity.”

  She gave him another kiss, sweeter than all the rest. Norman laid the book on the table, open at the page where he had written his latest creation, the one Julia would read after she had showered. Then he picked up the newspaper and flicked through it. The news sounded banal. His thoughts went back to the beginning of his nightmare. With a grimace, he erased the memory. He turned another page. Everything looked quite normal. It was the same as every other day and the different news reports resembled each other: violence, wars, robberies and political debates. There were sports events involving people who had become heroes thanks more to newspaper articles than feats on the field. There were the comic features by various show business personalities who entertained people with their tales and through which the lives of many were lived. Lastly, there was a page reporting the sensational events of the previous night. Norman let his eye wander over the words, until he came to the starting point of his adventure. The report described a poet who had become the most important writer of all time, two woman mysteriously found murdered in the basement of a bar and numerous other deaths, including a child raped in a wood.

  A shiver ran through Norman’s heart. He stopped breathing, trying to hold back the fears that were submerging the certainty he had lately rediscovered, while the mirror opposite him showed the reflection of a man he hardly recognized, one with the same mocking grin he had attributed in his dream to the devil.

  “Julia! I need you. I don’t think I’m completely awake.”

  There was no reply and a red light flashed in his brain, warning him to stay calm. The grin in the mirror widened into a roar of laughter that filled his mind; it was so deafening that he thought he was going crazy.

  “Julia! Where are you? Please, I need you. Now!”

  He strode into the bathroom to find out why she hadn’t replied.

  “Julia! If this is a joke, it’s not funny!”

  The room was empty. He looked in the bedroom and living-room. He began to tremble, and saw smiling figures reflected in every mirror in the apartment.

  “Julia!”

  The telephone began to ring and kindled a flicker of hope. The voices in his head vanished, as if cancelled out by a non-existent reality. Calmness attempted to take the situation in hand as the phone continued its clamor. Everything seemed to be returning to normal. He set to thinking, dismissing the idea of being insane and tightening his grip on reason. It would only be a matter of minutes before reality and love returned from their hiding-place in a corner of his mind.

  “Hello.”

  The voice on the other end of the line dragged him back into the abyss he had just clambered out of, sweeping away every belief in truth.

  “Good morning, Norman. I’ve got a message from Will.”

  BIOGRAPHY

  Massimo Russo was born on 6th March, 1975, in Varese, Italy.

  He has been keenly interested in mathematics and everything related to technology since he was a child.

  He graduated as a surveyor, but has only been able to find himself through music and poetry .

  His aim in life is to combine the perfection of an equation with the unpredictability of the meaning of words and the magnitude of music.

  In 2010 he wrote his first novel “Il Destino del Diavolo”, published by Pietro Macchione, owner of a small publishing house in Varese. Despite the difficulties he
encountered in making his writing début, his first novel has been well received by critics and readers alike.

  Massimo realised from the start that there was a marked contrast between traditional publishing methods which involve huge printing costs but give no guarantee of reaching a wide range of readers, and the modern digital system that inspired him to create his own digital application.

  Because he strongly believes that books are a cultural heritage belonging to the whole world and must therefore be within everyone’s reach, he decided to sell a digital version of his book at a nominal price both in Italy and abroad. The book has been translated into English under the title "The Devil's Fate".

  Massimo currently works as a consultant and advisor to well-known companies. His artistic repertoire also includes over fifty songs.

  The Devil’s Fate, all rights reserved. On the cover: detail of a solar eruption photographed by NASA.

  Translation copyright © 2011 Susi Clare

  e-book version by Massimo Russo

  You can send messages or comments to Massimo Russo by logging on to his Facebook page:

  Personal Profile

  Page