The Prince

After a sip of his coffee, Davis cleared his throat and hovered over the file before him once more. A few grumbles escapes his mouth while he absentmindedly stroked the tuft of silver streaks in his beard. His eyes glossed over the words once more. Suspected of terrorist activities, recorded contact made with known international arms dealers, access to companies behind manufacturing biochemical warheads; this guy had his hands in everything but most notably of all; he was the one responsible for the heists and complete destruction of several facilities, including the DARKSUN black site. That was a location that only a handful of high-ranking agents and directors knew about.

At that moment, the sole door to his gray room opened, spilling in a shower of golden light into the gloom. In the doorway stood two familiar faces; one ushering in the other in chains which jangled with every step. Davis watched the two closely. Their intrusion into his silence came with so little noise, he might not have noticed them had it not been for the door and chains.

The prisoner entered the room without a complaint despite his clearly disheveled appearance. His plaid vest showed signs of fuzzing cotton and marred stains to its front, as if he was grappled by it tightly very recently. The sleeves of the shirt beneath it looked just as spoilt with stains from dirt with more signs of rough handling. Locks of his brown hair fell in tangles over his face, obscuring it as if he was in a bar-fight.

His jailer locked his hand and leg cuffs to the table and floor; all the while, the man remained silent. Even after his jailer left the two alone in that box, the man seemed didn’t offer a single snide remark as others often would. Now, the two were alone save for a table, the chairs they sat on, a slowly spinning ceiling fan, a single darkened glass window behind the newly seated prisoner, and the slow ticking of a clock on the wall.

“Special Agent”, the gentleman said in a eerily polite tone. Davis’ dull blue eyes focused and sharpened on the man, struggling to better understand the enigma now before him; to separate reality from fiction.

Mikah Johannes Clementine. An internationally known multi-billionaire, human-rights activist, and philanthropist who has continuously made advancements in the world of medicine and science. The man has contributed billions in charity to human-rights and equal-rights over the course of the last five years alone which means he should well be a trillionaire by now. Not only that, but his image has always been very highly maintained in the world; loved and well-respected by billions for constantly siding in favour of the masses; the poor; the needy; and against social and human injustices.

“You seem as if something is troubling you. Anything I can do to help?” he asked; leaning forward over the table with that uneasy smile of his. The cuffs chained to his wrist jangled slightly as he shifted. Playfully, the man blew out a puff of air, shaking the locks of brown hair that fell to either side of his face.

“I’d comfort you physically if I could, but these manacles hardly make that possible. I don’t suppose I could convince you to remove them so that we can be more civil in our discussions, could I?”

“Where’s the THORN?” Davis asked flatly while clasping his hands in his lap. If Clementine’s plan was to unnerve him in this situation with his abnormally calm charade, he would have to do much better than that. Sure, this man’s public image did not match the charges and claims against him, but he wouldn’t be the first that sat before Davis with such a record either.

After working for nearly thirty years with the bureau, a young Quinton Davis climbed his ways through the ranks to be given a unique position as a profiler within the agency after successfully dealing with countless people precisely like this. Those who hid in plain sight under a false persona while conducting nefarious actions in the shadows were his specialty. Every single one of them in the past thought themselves to be smarter than most, but none of them were nearly half as smart as they tho -

“It’s closer than you think”, Clementine said while leaning back into his chair, forcing his chains to jangle once more. The smile on his face remained the same, almost as if it was painted on there. Davis, on the other hand, had to make sure his own face remained blank. The immediate and unexpected response shook him, leaving him bewildered and momentarily surprised. But it wasn’t a response he had never stumbled across before.

“Surely however, that’s not what has you so troubled, is it?” the man continued, as if trying to steer the flow of the conversation his way. “I’ve no problem cooperating with you, Special Agent. My goal is to help you and all of humanity, afterall.”

“It’s amazing you could even say that with that smile still on your face” Davis scoffed. “Are you aware of the crimes you’re being charged with? Terrorist activities, connections to international arms dealers and war criminals, theft and destruction of a top secret black site. And you picture yourself as some champion of humanity?”

“And how else would you picture me then?” the man asked curiously. “Do you truly think my crimes are any different to what you and our government do in the shadows?”

“You’ve funded wars and shadow-cabals who have controlled powerful key figures like puppet-masters”, Davis shot back with a cold piercing stare. “You’re indirectly responsible for taking the lives of millions; hundreds of thousands being your own countrymen.”

“As has any nation powerful enough to think they have earned the right to preach to some ‘lesser’ nation about the correct way as to how they should govern themselves” he said maintaining his calm and polite demeanour. “Again, I ask of you: Where exactly is the difference there?”

At that, he could only chuckle in response. “You think that you’re powerful and rich enough to somehow get out of this situation, don’t you? That your connections and money will get you through this hole you’ve found yourself in”

Clementine’s head tilted to the side; feigning the look of a confused puppy. “A hole? Is that how you see this situation, Special Agent? From where I’m sitting, we’re both in the same spot; at the same level. And while I cannot speak for yourself, I am precisely where I want to be”

“Except we caught you at the black site after your team abandoned you there. Seems they got what they wanted; the THORN, and no longer had a need for you before leaving you behind in the wake of your own destruction. That’s what you’d call a hole, Mr. Clementine” Davis responded pointedly while rolling up his sleeves.

A moment passed between the two with neither saying a word, before he broke the silence next.

“Tell me, Special Agent. Do you get much reading done?” he asked suddenly.

While initially confused, Davis decided to humour the question, curious as to where it could lead to. “I do my fair bit of reading when I can but I suppose it’s a matter of the material being more pertinent”

“Well; regardless of the material, I find myself quite enamoured with reading personally” Mikah continued, his eyes drifting upwards to the gray ceiling fan slowly spinning. “Since I was young, I’d read anything I could get my hands on; in hopes of learning something. It wasn’t because I loved to learn or anything cliche like that. It was just genuine curiosity; it has always been genuine curiosity. If you saw your older sibling reading a book with a pretty cover; you’d be curious what it was about, no?”

After some time, when Davis realized he was waiting on an answer. “Yeah sure, I suppose you would. Bright colours pique the curiosity of children afterall” he responded dryly.

“Precisely. By my nature, I was - No. Am a curious child. I always have been; always will be. It’s why I read so much. And that’s how I came to learn what the statement, ‘curiosity killed the cat’ really meant”

At that, Davis raised a questioning eyebrow, not fully understanding.

“You see, curious minds are those who’re most willing to learn, Special Agent. But truly curious minds will also critically analyze what it is they’ve learnt, because they’re very close to skeptics themselves. They’ll question it, poke at it, doubt it, and trial it; simply because they’re curious about it; did you know?” he asked rhetorically before refocusing his soft hazel eyes on Davis.

“That’s why the best scientists are truly curious minds. They poke and prod at things to prove or disprove them; for the sake of their own selfish curiosity” he finished.

“Are you claiming yourself to be a brilliant scientist now?” Davis asked with a hint of amusement.

“Not in the realm of applied sciences, no. But in the realm of pure science? In the understanding of humanity and the world as we’ve made it? Why, yes” he said without a trace of humour in his tone. “You see, humanity is a plague. I learnt that at a young age through fault of my own curiosity; and ever since, I’ve been conducting experiment after experiment to disprove my hypothesis”

“Earlier you claimed you were trying to help all humanity and now, you call them a plague? How delusional exactly are you, Mr. Clementine? Do I need to get a psychiatric evaluation done on you first?” Davis’ said with a jape.

“That’s entirely up to you but.. “, he began but then paused before finally sighing. “Fine, very well. I’ll explain it since I’ve already started although I’m certain I already know how this conversation will end” he said as his shoulders visibly slumped.

“To elaborate, humans have always fought over the years; for a multitude of reasons. And no, I’m not saying that’s why they’re a plague. As a matter of fact; I quite agree with the idea of war and conflict. It is the ultimate form of expression anyone can take to oppose something when they have no other means to do so. For someone to tell you they are willing to die for their beliefs… Is there anything greater?” he asked eloquently with a gleam of sincerity in his eyes.

“No; the reason why humanity is a plague is in fact how they twist the truths of why they fight, war, and create conflict. All for their own benefit; regardless of those affected by the consequences of their choices. It does not matter the person nor the scale of which they do this; just simply the fact that it happens. Politicians do it all of the time, I’m sure we’d have no debate on that; but activists do it far more often”

“Are you confessing to untruthful statements you’ve made in the past, Mr. Clementine? I’m sure you know those would have nothing to do with the crimes you’ve committed and - “

“Special Agent, if your only remarks will be those of witless japes that continue to interject, we’ll be here for quite longer than either of us have the time for” he said flatly; his earlier politeness replaced with a hint of frost in his tone.

With a soft smirk, Davis rested back into his chair and folded a leg atop the other while placing a finger along the length of his brown-gray sideburns. With the other hand, he gestured a welcoming wave as an apology; wordlessly urging the man to continue.

Talkative criminals were the easiest ones to interrogate. They would do all of the work for you on their own and give you the information you wanted without you having to lift a single finger. Better to let him have his spotlight, then.

“Thank you” he said with a nod of acknowledgement while leaning forward and steepling his fingers; his earlier politeness returning in his voice. The chains dragged against the metal table in response.

“No. In my own activist-related endeavours, I’ve never tried to twist any truths. Rather; I’ve always concisely and explicitly stated my beliefs at every turn possible. Such things don’t matter though” he said flatly while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You see, the average person doesn’t care about what you say or why you’re saying it. Only if there’s something to be gained from it, do they lend an ear. And more oft than not, you’ll find that they twist it for their own needs. Whether it be to disprove some political rival, to garner some fame on your person, or to win some trifle argument; your word is expendable. They’ll twist it and spread it as gospel. And every time that gospel spreads, it becomes more and more twisted; more and more ugly, until finally; it’s unrecognizable to even you, the very source of it. Yet, because of the weight of your name attached to it…”

Davis noticed that almost as if it was a nervous tick, Clementine had begun picking at his finger nails. He also noticed the ever so slight shift in his voice; a small tremble to it that wasn’t there previously. It was as if there was some seething anger hidden just beneath the surface of his words.

“The masses see the power of it and they use it for their own whims” he continued. “They’ll claim they love you; claim they understand you, and speak as if they understood the very essence of your being. Not a single one of them ever do. That’s when I understood why our current rulers are so inadequate; for they focus on gaining the love and the trust of these masses. These… People who could hardly differentiate the very truth of something happening right before them” he finished with unfiltered venom in his voice.

Almost as if he had forgot himself, he ceased his fidgeting and drew his focus back onto Davis and gave an apologetic smile before continuing.

“A true ruler should not bother themselves with such trivial things” he started once again, that polite tone returning as if it had never left. “The opinion of the sheep should carry no weight to the -”

“Lion?” Davis interjected, slowly coming to understand just what kind of criminal it was that sat before him.

“No” he said flatly. “The shepherd” he finished with his eyes a lit with some kind of twisted glee.

“You see” he began once again, waving his hands outwards; causing the chains to drag across the table once more, “For a leader to successfully lead, he must have a clear mind and within it; a clear vision. If you’re preoccupied with the musings of those who still struggle to see the blatantly obvious, how could you have such a vision? As a result, our leaders fall prey to foolish ideals of things such as democracy and an equal voice for all; when in truth, half of the citizens couldn’t tell you how much they pay in taxes monthly while the other half foolishly promote and monetize superficial things such as fashion, celebrities, and models”

“You are aware that’s precisely why anyone even knows of your name, right? The Multi-Billionaire Philanthropist, the Great Mikah Clementine. They’re the ones responsible for your fame” Davis said flatly.

“And I hate them all for it” Clementine shot back at once. “I never asked for this fame; I only sought to sate my own curiosity.”

“And thus; curiosity killed the cat”, Davis said softly; coming to understand the ramblings of this man. At that, Clementine’s smile broadened from ear-to-ear.

“There might be hope for you yet after all, Special Agent” he said with glee. Without missing a beat, his tone turned to a businessman’s who was on the verge of closing a sale.

“But yes. Humanity is a plague and inadequate leadership have let it ran rampant by catering to the masses which are hardly capable of critical thinking; let alone, taking action. For the most part, our leaders should employ tactics of fear and control than their fake smiles and affection”

“Do you mean to say all countries should be a dictatorship?” Davis asked incredulously.

“And why not? Throughout history; have empires not achieved far greater feats than their present world counterparts because of being a dictatorship? Having their reign be determined by the duration of their life has allowed them to accomplish wondrous things without hindrance in comparison to today’s world. How do you think any of our current nations and countries became unified? It was certainly not done by a change of government every four to five years; I assure you”

“And what of the heinous acts they’ve done throughout history you’ve so conveniently forgotten? How they’ve extinguished billions of lives in their pursuit for their unification and other great feats? That’s what makes them all tyrants” Davis shot back.

“As opposed to the ones we have now? Wearing the very same fake smiles as the masses they govern; preaching to their simple-minded sheep that they mean well yet two countries away, they’re bringing down a nation’s entire way of life for some precious resource? Let’s stop pretending as if we both don’t know otherwise, Special Agent. We are both privy to far too much information for that” he said flatly.

At that, Davis sat up, having made up his mind with his analysis of Clementine. “Do we? I know this country makes it decisions for the sake of its people; for the sake of its future in this world. From where I’m sitting, Mr. Clementine, it seems like you’re an eccentric with an irrational hatred for liars which has twisted your perception of reality where everyone who doesn’t conform to your beliefs is a liar and thus, a part of the problem” he said with a tone that broke no argument.

Before he could continue however, Clementine exploded in a fit of laughter; startling Davis to a pause with his analysis.

“Something amusing?” he asked while cautiously watching the man.

“Oh, quite” Clementine said while wiping a tear from his eyes. “Quite amusing indeed. To think I said there might be hope for you yet; that I believed this conversation might end differently for the first time. But alas, here I am once more.” he said while shaking his head, sucking his tongue between his teeth disappointingly.

“Do you even know the difference between a person who is a liar” he continued, opening an empty chained hand with a jangle, “and a person who is delusional?” he finished while opening his other hand with another jangle.

After Davis gave him no response, he answered himself. “A liar knows he’s a liar, Special Agent. Regardless of how elaborate the tale it is he tells; he still knows that it is in fact, just a tale. A delusional person on the other hand; simply cannot tell fiction from reality. They believe any lie to fit their own perception of reality, however best works for them. Even if that lie comes from themselves” he said in a tone which broke no argument.

“That’s why it’s so funny, you see. Because you clearly are the only one at this table wrapped up in a delusion. Just like all of the other sheep out there.” he finished with a chuckle.

“You seem so sure of yourself; so confident of yourself, but it seems you forgot who has the power here, Mr. Clementine!” Davis snapped back, tired of amusing the man any longer.

“Do I now? I know precisely who has the power here. Do YOU, Special Agent Quinton Keene Davis?”, Clementine said with a smirk on his face.

Davis immediately shot up to his feet, slamming his hands to the table. How?! I never told him my name; so how did he know it?!

“Careful, Special Agent. Isn’t one of the first rules of a profiler to remain calm and in control of the situation during interrogation? Would you like some help with that?” he asked cheerfully in that disgustingly polite tone of his.

Without a word, Davis reached across the table and grabbed Clementine by his vest pulling him closer to his face. “Enough! Where’s the THORN!” he shouted into his face.

Clementine merely chuckled, ignoring the flecks of spit now on his cheeks. “Do you even know what the THORN is, Special Agent? How much do you even really know? Just how much information did your superiors give you about that weapon, pray tell? About me?”

Davis searched those hazel eyes and hardly saw any hints of a lie beneath them. This man has been; in fact, completely calm this entire time. His earlier nervous tick wasn’t because of any discomfort, but of slowly unraveling rage at the topic; nothing more. He had this man wrong entirely. This wasn’t one he was familiar with; but a different beast altogether.

“Did you ever stop to question what I would do with the THORN? What it even does? How did I find information about it? Are you truly even capable of critical thinking yourself; Mr. Davis? Do you have a truly curious mind? Or are you just deluding yourself into thinking you’re intelligent?”

“Answer the question, Clementine!” Davis snapped back as his only response, refusing to fall for anymore of the man’s ploys.

“So you don’t then”, he chuckled, continuing to ignore Davis’ demands. “Well let me tell you. The THORN is something I made. You must know of the exploits and advancements in the field of medicine made by the companies I spearhead. The THORN is something they created in the pursuit of those exploits; a biochemical weapon currently capable of wiping out approximately forty percent of the world’s population. In it’s complete form, however; it will be a culling for the masses of this world who have long-since plagued it” he said with a widening smirk on his face.

“Do you know how you control a plague, Special Agent Davis? You cut it out at the source” he finished.

Davis’ face paled at the thought; but then, just as quickly became confused. “How could you even find the resources to build such a - “

“Why, your very same superiors and government, of course. Who do you think were the ones that commissioned me to create such a thing in the first place? Who do you think it was that put me into contact with international arms dealers and war criminals like Jokovich Mitzonof, the Brotherhood, and others? That twisted truths for their own gains so that this whole thing could even happen? Your leaders wanted me to build them a weapon that they could use as leverage against, ‘potential threats to national security’.” he continued with a scoff.

Confused, Davis loosened his grip on Mikah’s shirt while taking a staggered step backwards; as if hit but some heavy blow to his face. “Lies!” he spat out vehemently. “There’s no reason for the Bureau to need such a weapon!”.

“Then why was it at one of the black sites, pray tell? If it was such a dangerous weapon; why not disarm it and throw it under lock-and-key with all the other big bad toys in their arsenal?”

Davis was at a lost for answers; and yet, the only thing that he could do was to deny the accusations. After a shake of his head, he grabbed Clementine’s vest once more with renewed vigor.

“WHERE’S THE THORN!” he shouted once more.

“Yes, yes. Of course the sheep chooses instead to grip tighter to his delusions” Clementine jested as he’s yanked forward, the chains on his wrist chaffing into his wrists.

“Enough of your word games and lies, Clementine! Tell m - “

“But I’ve already told you, Quinton” Clementine said calmly. “I’ve not lied to you once since we started speaking. The THORN is indeed closer than you think”.

Just as he said that, Davis noticed the slight sound of a strange hissing noise that wasn’t there before, the beads of sweat that was not only on his own brow, but also on Clementine’s. Panicked, he looked to the bottom of the closed door of the room and saw wisps of thick gray smoke creeping into the room.

In a frenzy, Davis threw Clementine down into the chair and darted over to the door; hitting a switch on the wall which illuminated the entire room with lights hidden in the panels of the ceiling. At the same time, the darkened window became transparent glass, revealing the late night city skyline outside.

From between several alleys in the city, similar wisps of smoke could be seen rising up into air, slowly creating a fog that masked the streets. Quinton also noticed several vehicles stopped in the roads with people exiting the cars, arguing and shouting inaudible words while others were already collapsed to the floor.

“You… What have you done?! You’re crazy if you think you’ll get out of this alive!” he barked as he began as he stared onwards at the tragedy.

Behind him, the sounds of chains jangling could be heard once more but this time; they fell to the table and floor respectively with a loud final thud.

“Getting out of this alive?” came Clementine’s voice; from almost directly behind his shoulder. “You really haven’t been listening to me have you, Mr. Davis? I told you. We’re both in the same spot and I’m precisely where I want to be”

Confused, Davis spun around to see Clementine completely free of his restraints standing but half a step behind him, unarmed.

“Weren’t you the shepherd?” he found himself asking strangely; instead of trying to restrain this clearly escaped criminal.

"Yes, I am. That’s why I’m the one responsible for failing my flock” Clementine said as he stepped past Davis and approached the window. His smile broadened while looking across the city at his handiwork.

“How could you do such a thing? This is a war crime that history will never forget; let alone, forgive you for. No one will erect statues in your name as some saviour; as some leader.”

“Nor do I want them to. The shepherd doesn’t bother himself with the opinion of the sheep. He simply knows better and carries out his plan with a clear vision in mind” Clementine said flatly as the smoke now filled the room. Both of their vision became cloudy while their eyes burned fiercely as if set aflame while their throats became tight and coarse.

“What could you possibly hope… To achieve from this?” Davis asked between laboured breaths and sputtered coughs. He noticed flecks of red with each word, splattering onto his shirt and the floor.

“That afterwards… There won’t be a ‘this’, but something better” Clementine responded through laboured breaths himself. “That afterwards, I can finally prove my hypothesis wrong…”