Page 183 of Shâhzâdeh

“I’ll give you vhatever you vant. I am sorry for vhat I did. Please, zhis is—”

“Zhe same equipment used to slaughter pigs, which is what you are. A disgusting, glutinous creature who doesn’t care what is consumed wiz his greed. You don’t care how destructive your actions or appetites are as long as you are satisfied. Now you can meet zhe same fate as a boar who is no longer useful. Of course, if we let zhe new Mrs. Chisholm-Love get in on the fun, we can send you to hell as a barrow.”

Sampson and Nate were laughing as my uncle’s body moved closer to the standing blade and he struggled to free himself from the hook. His pleads fell on death ears and I watched with silent joy as he drew closer to the blade. When he got to the spot I needed him to be, I took his bound feet and hooked them to the floor with a chain. I drew it taunt through the metal hooks cemented on the floor, forcing his knees to buckle so he was now kneeling before me. I attached the length of chain and rope against the opposite wall so he was forced to stay in this kneeling position with his arms still raised over his head.

“Bien. Now, you’ll have to forgive meamu, I am not as well versed in carving as he rancher here. But he told me zhe basics of what I needed to know.”

“If you can use a knife you can use this.” Sampson had walked closer and was checking the equipment as though he was ensuring it was fully operational.

“See! He even understands how my brain works. Now, I’m told you should be honored because zhis knife is over fifty years old. It is a Jarvis somezing or other but it has been used to cut zheir top of zhe line heritage hogs for decades.”

“We let them get processed one last time but your death will signal its retirement.” Nate was grinning as he said that shit like Ibriham was really winning a reward and I was cracking up.

“Hold still uncle, you’re about to lose your head, but we don’t want to make it too painful.”

I took a hold of the instrument from Sampson that was attached to the ceiling and stood over my uncle. He was facing my father and the rest of our family stood solemnly to witness his fate.

“I’ve chained you because although I’m to get dirty, I don’t want you flailing around and getting your brains and shit on me.”

“Bijan! I’m your brother! Look at vhat good came from me sleeping viz Leila! You met your wife! I did you a favor!” Tears poured from his eyes as he begged my father for mercy he wouldn’t receive.

“You vere a greedy bastard who was lucky zhat Allah had his hand upon my life. You lucked up zhat your betrayal put me on a paz to my forever. But I vould’ve always met Babette, even vizout vhat you did. I owe you no zhanks and vill not ask my son to show you any mercy. At any point in all zhese years you could’ve advocated for change. Attempted to be different. You did not. You vent along wiz zhe status quo and so zhe punishment for zhat is severe.” My father stood with his arms behind his back and his four brothers at his side, Afshin, Michael, Deuce and Xavier, watching with a stoic look on his face as I stood ready to avenge him.

“Afshin—”

My uncle frowned as he shook his head in disgust. “Surely not me. You are not speaking to zhe brozer zhat was born of apet? As it vere, Xerxes and I had to flip a coin to see who vould get zhis honor. I vill have to settle for being zhe one chosen to vear zhe crown zhat you so coveted.”

“Bijan, please!”

“Enough talkin’. Your beggin’ disgusts me. Unlike you, I have a woman zhat is excited for me to come home to her.To jahannam khosh begzare(Have fun in hell)!”

Over the sound of the blade and my uncle’s screams, I heard Afshin begin to pray in Arabic while Mir did the same in English. I kept the blade, which was more of a modified chainsaw, at a higher angle to ensure we would get the penetration needed to break through his skull. The blade sent his hair flying and I hoped it wouldn’t get lodged in his skull, ruining the effect I was going for. I felt when it caught on the bone and the silence that followed my uncle’s abruptly terminated last scream signaled the blade had hit his brain. The sound reminded be of dropping something into a mud puddle. It wasn’t a splash, more like a suctioning wetness as the blade liquified his brain and continued through his body. The sound was repeated as I cut through his bones and organs essentially churning his vital organs to mush. His intestines fell out of his body and onto the floor, narrowly being able to escape their turn on the saw. Despite my preparation, pieces of my uncle along with his blood covered my face and clothing. My uncle’s body was effectively cut in half, only being held together by the chains that forced him into his fate. His clothes were shredded and bloody, his corpse leaking the mix of his destroyed organs onto the ground beneath him.

“This some crazy shit.” Ahmad was standing there in shock, but there was no horror on his face. Or anyone else’s. It was a look of appreciation like they all approved of my actions.

I walked over to the table and grabbed a towel to mop some of the filth off of my face, the stench of his rotten soul that was no longer contained in the meat sack that was his body filling the room.

“Bâbâ, I hope you are slightly lighter now zhat anozer of your enemies has fallen.” He patted the side of my cheek appreciatively.

“Only one left.” He took his eyes off of me and focused them on his father.

“Bijan, please. You could do zhis to your fazer?” My grandfather’s voice was wavering, as though he couldn’t grasp that this type of horror was happening to his family.

“You’ve confessed to mutilating my vife’s body. Tried to have us all killed. And yet now, you vant to plead for mercy?” Bâbâ was speaking through clenched teeth, the effort to keep himself restrained diminishing by the second.

“Zhis is a sin—”

“Zhe even greater one is allowing you to draw breaz for another day. I vould say I vould see you in hell, but I won’t. Babette, angel zhat she is, vould divert my soul to heaven because she refuses to spend eternity vithout me. Xerxes, it is time.”

I held myscimitar, a gift from my father out for him so that he could grasp it. When the jeweled hilt was in his hand, his father began to weep openly.

“A king who never deserved his crown. Zhe legacy zhat you never earned vill be continued on zhrough zhe son who deserves to vear zhe title of king because he is zhe one who deserves zhe zhrone. Consider my not prolonging your deaz a final mercy.” My father gripped the knife and severed the head of his father in one swipe. It fell to the concrete floor with a soft thud, the sound padded by the abundance of my grandfather’s gray hair. His body fell in place the blood having sprayed over the rest of my relatives and guards who looked on in horror. His eyes were open and frozen in surprise. My father bent down and tossed a towel over his head. “Aknoon hameye mâ ta’me solh râ khâhim cheshid(Now we shall all taste peace).”

“It is a shame it took his death for zhe idea of peace to become reality for zhe both of us.”

My father turned to Afshin as he handed me the scimitar. “Zhe only ting I ask, vhich I know you vill do, is to be better zhan him. To seek council if you’re unsure and to never let yourself feel as zhough you’re invincible.”

Afshin’s smile was soft but he nodded his head in agreement. “You practically raised me even if it was from afar, Bijan, after my mother died. I vould never dishonor you or her by becoming like zhem.”

---