Three Questions
You know the end is coming, what would be called a ‘happily never after’. So you need some questions answered. They’ll sound prying, forcing a withered rose to open its petals, but they won’t give it away, if you tread carefully.
The first one you ask is the most obvious. It’s multifaceted, smashed into the confines of a few one syllable words.
“Why do you do this?”
His lip curls into a smirk. As if you should see the answer already, like you’re stumbling around blindfolded.
The plane is humming, purring, like a sleeping cat. The plane is preparing to descend, descend into an undoing.
Your palms are sweaty. That’s always been a problem of yours, but now, it’s impossible not to notice. You grip the leather armrests, hoping they’ll hold your sanity down.
You nearly expect him not to respond, to laugh it off and shove it away, but he speaks, keeping his head turned away, shielding it from your judgement.
“What drives humanity is the want of what you can’t have. But I have it all. So, I find joy, motivation, in the next best thing. I want what is wrong.”
This makes sense. It’s slimy, disgusting, like a bucket of toads, but it makes sense.
This will be painful. Well, on to the next question.
“Do you regret what you’ve done?”
This time he actually laughs. Explosive chuckles that bounce around the plane’s cabin.
“No. I never will. The world is meant to be exploited. I’ve been taking, taking, taking, and it’s been giving, giving, giving. Sometimes it throws things at me, sometimes I have to put in a little effort. But I always get what I want. I’ll suck this world dry, if it’s going to let me.”
There’s more, but the plane is swooping down now. On to the final question, the one you can ask now because you’re so close to reality.
“What if you get caught?”
A sigh. A breathy, exhausted one. A twinkle in his eyes.
“I won’t. I have money. I know they say ‘money can’t buy everything’. That’s true. But you know what?”
He pauses.
“It can buy enough. Money can’t buy love, but it can buy compliance. It can’t buy happiness, but it can buy distraction. It can’t buy back the past, but it can buy silence in the future. Money is everyone’s undoing. Throw enough at a problem and you can get it to disappear. I can’t fall, because I can rebuild my pedestal in an instant.”
And then he’s done.
These questions had caused a big bang, of sorts. Your loathing had been miniscule, nearly invisible. Now, everything had expanded into infinity, making a giant, bubbling mess.
He deserves this.
The plane lands, coasts down the runway. You’re excited now. Justice will be served. This man considered the world to be his playground, and someone set fire to it while he wasn’t looking.
It will burn.