The Enigma’s Anomaly

“H-hello Banks,” I say.

“Banks? Frank what’s going on?” Gerard’s voice says on the other phone.

“I... what did you do? Where’s Mikey?”

“Good, you noticed,” Banks says.

“I’m not heartless like you, bitch. Obviously I noticed when someone I cared about disappeared.”

“And it upsets you I take it?” Banks says.

I can barely keep myself from screaming right now, but I don’t have the time to just stand here. Banks knows where this car is, I have to get the fuck away from this place, so I hang up the phone with Gerard, after hearing him screaming at me not to. I send a text after Gerard’s voice is silent, and I hope it’s received in time.

“Alright Banks, tell me what you want. Tell me where Mikey is.”

“Why, isn’t it obvious what I want?” Banks asks in a sugary tone, “I want Gerard’s head on a platter.”

“That’s a twisted way of dining,” I say, and Banks makes a forced chuckle on the other end.

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Oh really now? I know that Mikey is a toothpick, but really putting him between your teeth would be a little perverse,” I say, and silence on the other end suggests that Banks has never read The Fault in Our Stars.

“Banks, you’ve been tallying our scores the past few days, you know that I’m not just a little kid waiting to be kicked. I will fight back, and I will not give up. I won’t give up anything until you’re in prison. I will make sure Mikey is alive if I have to kill you myself,” I tell him. My phone buzzes and I look down at it sighing. It’s a good thing I have two phones right now.

“How do you know you’re not too late?” Banks asks, and my heart gets caught in my throat. Mikey’s not dead, he can’t be. I put the car in drive, and I get it moving along down the road, trying to gather my thoughts, but it’s impossible.

Mikey can’t actually be dead. He can’t be. I’d know. I’d feel it or something. That’s just my imagination speaking though. Oh god, what if I got Mikey killed? That would be my conscience then.

“He’s not dead, he can’t be. You’re just trying to scare me,” I state, and Banks makes another sadistic noise. I don’t even know if it would be morally unjust to kill this man anymore. He’s such an awful human being, so undeserving of life, that it’s hard to make myself believe it’d be a bad thing for him to die. There’s no real downfall if Banks were to die. Everyone’s lives would get infinitely better, especially Gerard’s.

“What makes you say that? What reason do I have to keep him alive?”

“You need leverage, that’s what you need. You can’t kill Gerard, and I think you’re starting to realize that. It’s impossible for you to even lay a finger on him. Why do you think it’s been so hard, Banks? It’s because he’s defended. He’s not any more of a sitting duck then I am, and it kills you to know that you can’t get to him.”

“And why would that stop me from killing his brother?”

“Because then you’d lose. If you kill Mikey, then we’re gone and you know that. Gerard and I will not escape to a far off part of the state, we’ll go somewhere you can never find us, and you know that. The game you’re playing is not to kill Mikey Way though, it’s to kill Gerard Way. If you let him get away, you’ll have lost, and we both know you can’t have that. You wouldn’t sleep ever again, if you let him escape, so that’s why I know you haven’t killed Mikey. He’s the only thing you’ve got left. Mikey is the only thing keeping you a player in this game, the only piece of power you have, and you wouldn’t just kill him.”

“You’re smart, aren’t you, Iero?”

“You have no idea who I am, Banks. You have no idea what player you’ve introduced to your little game, and it was all an accident,” I say. The car races along the road, and I find myself turning sharply, doing a pretty good job of finding the right way back to the hotel.

“Do you know who you’re dealing with though? That’s the real question.”

“I’m dealing with a coward. A cheat. A Liar. A scumbag. You’re a child in a world too complex for your understanding. You’re not the kid who sat back during monopoly and kindly let your opponent win, when they’ve clearly won, you were the kid who threw the board in the air and refused to respect that you were outmatched. You’re an abomination, Banks.”

“And what are you, Iero? What are you? A journalist? A queer who couldn’t make it in the real world so you attached himself to someone more successful than him. If you think I’m the loser then you’re wrong.”

I roll my eyes. He’s really reaching, because he knows he’s inferior. I know he’s inferior.

“Sometimes I get really stuck on the psychology of villainy. When we’re little kids we’re always told the stories about good versus bad. You remember them, I’m sure. Tall tales about bad people and good guys, and when we’re little we always root on the good guys, because we know to. We’re only little kids but we’re smart enough to realize that the good guys are who you should be egging on. We all understand that the bad guys, they are bad, they shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing. Even as little kids we oppose the ideals of the wicked. So when we’re all brought up that way it’s hard to believe there’s bad. It’s hard to believe anyone can ever grow into a villain. Surely they know that they’re a bad person, and surely it eats them up because of the abominable nature of their ethics, and yet they persevere with their awful ways and blows my mind. We all grow up knowing what’s right and what’s wrong, so how can we ever trick ourselves into thinking we have the right to be bad? How do we even have bad people? If every kid is told what’s bad and what’s good then how can someone ever grow without realizing that they’ve become a villain?

“I want you to know that that’s what you are Banks. You are a villain. You’re a bad person, and there is no way to deny that. I don’t care how godly you may think of yourself as, you are wrong. I grew up being taught that people like you were wrong. You grew up being taught that people like you were wrong. Any child knows and can state without hesitation that you are a villain and that villainy is bad. So I guess the psychology of a bad guy is that they’ve lost what makes them human. No human could ever take away another’s life, it’s not in our nature. I just want you to think about that Banks. I want you to think about that when you go to sleep tonight. I want you to think about that when you’re eating your breakfast. I want you to think about that when I find you, and when I save my friends’ life. I just want you to remember that you’re the one everyone roots against. You’re Voldemort. You’re Sauron. You’re the Joker, and you’re Count Dracula. Most of all though, you’re a monster.”

“Well it’s great to know what you think of me, but I am not offended, nor am I all that humbled. I do not think you understand the position I am in,” Banks says.

“Every villain thinks himself the hero of his own story, I suppose. Surely you have to know, somewhere deep inside, that you’re very existence is a contradiction to morality. To peace.”

“I think you’re forgetting one key thing,” Banks says chillingly, “I don’t care.”

“You don’t care? You have no value for human life?”

“It’s not my life, why should I worry about it. I am not a sentimental man, Mr. Iero. I don’t care what you think of me, and the integrity of my childhood wonder is not something I wish to sustain. I am a businessman, not a putz.”

“You have no remorse for those people you’ve killed, Banks? None whatsoever?”

“Why should I? We all die, all I did was ensure their quick demise, they should be thanking me, really.”

“How many people have you killed Banks? How many people have you killed just because they got in your way? How many more lives would you be willing to end, just so that you could get ahead?” I ask.

“You must think of yourself and your friend as special, mustn’t you? Must think I’ve reserved a special punishment for being opposed by you two. I do not put value to human life, we’ve discussed that, but you don’t understand just how little I care. The number of people I’ve killed, Mr. Iero, would blow your mind. Dozens. Several dozen. I don’t care if I add three more to that growing list. It would actually be an honor to see you dead.”

“If you are content in your power-hungry filth then know that I am content in knowing myself above you. I will win in the end, Banks. Surely you know that.”

“Do you actually believe yourself to have the upper hand?” Banks asks.

“I do. I’m sure Mikey is safe right now, and if he isn’t then I do hope you have a firm grip, because we wouldn’t want you dropping any soap where you’re headed.”

“You’ve got a lot of balls to say something like that to me,” Banks says.

“Not necessarily. What I do have is leverage of my own though. We’ll speak soon Banks. Anticipate contact from a colleague of mine,” I say, looking down at my own phone, “because this has been a rather interesting conversation.”

“How so?” Banks asks, with a pompous chuckle.

“It’s the twenty-first century, Banks. Don’t you know that you can record cell phone conversations?” I answer, and then hang up.

I carefully press in the right number on my phone, while also watching the road in front of me. I hear a click when the recipient immediately picks up on the other end.

“Conte, hey. Did’ya get it?”

“Oh yes. I got all of that,” he says, “I didn’t know people were stupid enough to actually do the whole monologuing thing.”

“Neither did I, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I answer, smiling widely. “I was right though. This will all be over soon.”