(2.4) What Is Your Sin?

The grass of the field felt like metal across Dmitri’s palms. The ground didn’t seem quite right either. Rather than cushioning him the earth was ridged against his back. The sky furrowed and the sun looked concave.

He found himself growing nervous, and scared.

Even more so when Sof’ya’s voice called to him from a few steps away.

“Dima…”

Dmitri tried sitting upright, his body was unresponsive. Panic filled his eyes as they raced to and fro in search of his sister.

“Dima…”

The voice approached called to the boy. Sweat gathered on his forehead in the anxiety. Dmitri forced his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. He begged the voice to abate.

“Dima…”

It was right on top of him. In noncompliance to his own will the boy’s eyes flickered open.

Before him stood a striking image of his younger sister aged to about mid thirties. Her hair had grown wildly past her knees and billowed in the wind. She bent at the waist with her hands behind her back and whispered mute words.

Her lips read plain enough.

“Di…ma…”

Tears swelled over his eyes, glazing the world in murk.

“I’m Sorry,” Dmitri started.

Sof’ya smiled, though there wasn’t a shard of joy behind it.

In a single heart beat the sister lashed into the boy. The attack changed the world to match its ferocity. The woman’s hair was as a living entity, strangling the boy. Her hands as razors, gripping a knife plunged deep into his chest.

Dmitri screamed from the bottom of his lungs and jerked forward in the metal chair. The nightmare yielded to reality. Unlike the dream, the stabbing in his chest remained.

The man that stood before Dmitri cursed and sternly pushed Dmitri back into the chair.

“Yuri, can you restrain the boy? If he keeps jerking like that it will be difficult to finish.”

The man was holding what looked vaguely like a handgun. But instead of a barrel there was a needle fixed to the end that worked at Dmitri’s chest. The machine’s insistent humming was drowned out in the pain it alighted on his breast.

“I think he’s done with the convulsions,” the slightly familiar rasp of Yuri’s voice intercede, “How are you feeling Dmitri?”

The question seemed redundant but helped Dmitri focus.

“What in the hell are you doing to me?” Dmitri grimaced.

The man that worked him had incredibly large forearms, one of which still forced him back into the chair.

Yuri was kind enough to answer, “You wanted induction into our family. My dominating friend here is branding you as a permanent member.”

Dmitri knew tattoos were a part of the criminal lifestyle but to what end was beyond him.

“Why tattoos?” His throat was in a lot of pain so he left the long questions at the door.

Yuri smiled at Dmitri’s curiosity, and decided to sate the youth’s appetite.

“Tattoos have had various meanings for countless cultures my boy,” that ‘my boy’ again, “They marked warriors and men among the Islanders. Buddhists adorn their bodies with them as a sign of spirituality. Northerners use them as a family tree. In Japan they mean you’re part of a gang. In America they are for fashion. In India they are for decoration,” Yuri moved close to the youth’s ear, “In Russia, you get a tattoo when you commit a sin.”

Those last words coiled around the back of Dmitri’s mind, they would never be forgotten.

The man working on him nodded as the last strokes were etched across Dmitri’s bare chest. After his equipment was cleaned and stowed the man left without a word.

“Let me see it,” the latest member of the mafia requested.

His reflection in the mirror pierced back into the boy’s soul.

An image of the Mother Mary starred towards the heavens, her eyes hollowed and bleeding down her statuesque cheeks. A slightly calm, yet screaming, mouth opened as she called to something unknown. The emotion of her pain captured in the ink was astonishing.

Dmitri traced the tender lines with a finger. Spots of blood seemed to ooze casually from various places.

“What sin does this one represent?” Dmitri turned to Yuri.

The elderly man silently chuckled, “Take your pick boy. Wrath, lust, envy, pride. You’ve already shown these to me.”

The restless boy thought on that.

How many sins will be cataloged on my skin?

“Wrath,” with a collected voice he continued, “Wrath will fit me best.”

Yuri smiled, or was it a sneer? With his acutely angled face it was hard to tell.

“You’ll need wrath for your part of the bargain.”

Dmitri picked up his shirt, bloodied from the recent events of the day.

“I have no idea what you people do for a living, so I need to ask you to be very specific with your request.”

The shirt wasn’t cooperating anymore than his own muscles were.

Yuri corrected, “It’s not ‘you people’ anymore, you’ll soon find out how much a part of us you truly have become.”

Dmitri tried to angle his body so a sleeve would slide down his arm.

“Sorry, I don’t know what we do for a living…”

The shirt refused to submit.

Yuri continued then, “To be as exact as possible you will be sent out to kill a man. Particularly Vasili Grunachyov, who runs a weapons cache from a warehouse up north. Lately he’s been refusing to offer business with our family. And to be candid about it, he hurt our feelings. You Dmitri are going alone, to kill him. I want to see how you’ll handle this. Vasili has large amounts of guards who are very well armed. Come out of this alive and you’ll have proven your loyalty and ability to me.”

“So I’m to go from being a starved child to serial killer in one day?” Dimitri asked apathetically.

“You could choose to refuse my offer.” Yuri retorted. Shockingly without sarcasm.

“No, I’m a man of my word, if nothing else.” What else was left?

“Good, then go outside and wait in my car while I make some calls.” Yuri turned his back to the youth.

“Yes sir Boss.” He responded quickly.

Dimitri gave up wrestling with the shirt and awkwardly threw his coat over himself. Without another word the would be assassin excused himself.

The frigid air bit into his open wounds. Another piece of wardrobe fought against restraint. His fingers had not regained their dexterity as they fumbled with the coat’s buttons. The heat from within the car was extremely enticing. Unlike the warmth, Yuri’s driver was as silent and cold as stone.

After the door closed Yuri pondered to himself for a moment. After a few heart beats passed he opened his old eyes.

“You should have chose option two kid,” The rasp in his voice filled the room.

From behind him opened a door that needed its own fair amount of oil.

“I thought the two of you would never finish that heartfelt chat,” An elderly woman’s voice greeted Yuri.

Yuri waited to respond, “Why the secrecy? No, never mind that. Did you bring the payment?”

“Always with the business and never the pleasure,” The woman coaxed.

“Psh, hag. You better stop toying around and give me what’s owed,” Yuri sniped as he turned around to face her.

The elderly woman cackled with teeth more jagged than stained glass.

“The first portion of the money is in the briefcase,” of which she offered up to him, “I do hope you won’t count it all and take me on my word that it is all there. Though I should remove some since the boy was almost killed.”

“Those two,” Yuri motioned towards the dead men lying still on the floor, “can become… over zealous in their work. Shame, I’ll have to find someone to replace such skilled individuals.”

Yuri took the black leather case from her pudgy fingers.

“I have one thing to ask you before I leave,” Yuri started, “Of all the unorthodox requisitions this has to be the strangest of all. What is so special about this boy that you would have me mold him into the metier of criminality?”

The woman groaned before responding, “Just as you will be training the boy’s mind, body, and soul into a nefarious malefactor… it is only the first step in molding him into what he is truly capable of doing.”

“You’re a lunatic,” Yuri sneered, “But a job is a job, and the pay has been exchanged. Even if I don’t agree with corrupting the youth.”

The elderly woman put her hands on her wide hips, “Just do as you’re ordered to and you’ll receive the rest of the payment.”

She blatantly grinned at her control over the man.

Yuri felt revolted at the sight of the smile.

“I always deliver on my contracts Babushka,” With that Yuri left her alone in the room.

As he walked back to the car his mind played trickery on him. The sound of a young woman’s laugh followed him every step of the way.