“Keep digging!” yelled the ginger haired man while waving his gun at me.

So, I kept digging, I could feel blisters forming on my hands and there was a splinter that I did not dare to stop to remove. I could see them pointing their guns at me. I hate having a gun pointed at me, usually it was I who was doing the pointing. I laughed. Sometimes the world can be so fickle.

“I am surprised that you still have it in you to laugh like that,” said Ciaran.

I did not respond to that, I just kept digging. Suddenly there was this sound of my shovel hitting a stone. I stuck a shovel into the ground, crouched down and dug with my hands. Then I threw the stone out of my unfinished grave, got up, took a shovel, and resumed digging.

I could see my wife on the ground, right to Ciaran. Conscious, but gagged and tied up, with black eye and bruises all over. On the ground like some trash. She did not deserve that. I could see it in her eyes, she was terrified of what was about to come. And there is nothing either of us can do to change it.

I was surrounded by a man who wants me dead,

his bodyguards,

and a contract killer,

all ready to shoot me the moment I do something unaccounted for. I was flattered, even in my current position they still considered me a threat. Yet, I could feel death itself glancing right at me, as it awaits for an opportunity to take me in.

I knew I was done for the moment that I learned about the kidnapping of my wife, Anna. That was a moment of no return, if I wanted to survive, I should have bolted. But then my wife would be dead, and I would be on the run for the rest of my life. I could not do that to her, nor myself. When I turned myself in, my future was cemented, like the shoes of Ciaran’s brother. I possibly saved her, at least I hope so. It is far more likely that they will kill her as to not leave a witness. At least that is what I would have done if I were them.

“Before I put you six feet under, I would like you to tell me your story. I want to know the life of a man who was such an ulcer,” said the shot caller.

“You want me to tell you my story? Well, I was born, I grew up, studied IT, I killed your brother, not in person but I see that to you it does not make a difference. And now I am here. Just put that bullet in my face so my wife can go home,” was my response. Which obviously Ciaran did not like, so he gestured to one of his sidekicks, who hit me in the stomach.

And now I will have to tell my story to a man that is about to take my life, a story I told no one, not even my wife. Well, at least she will learn why she is here, and why I had to die. It will give her closure she deserves; It would be stupid way to perish and not even learn of why. I for once, knew exactly why I needed to go down. Now that I look at it, I played with fire for so long that I didn’t even notice that my house went aflame. I found out about it only when I got surrounded by it, far too late to be able to do anything about it.

“You will tell me your story in as many details as I deem necessary. I want to learn why my brother had to die, how you became who you became, who helped you. Everything, hide nothing, even if you think it is not important. If I find something to be different from what I already know. You and your wife will suffer, spare it to yourselves and just talk.”

“Fine, but I will start from a bit of an unusual spot. My name is Arthur Tracz and I lived a double life…”