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"Are you satisfied?" (RP Post Summercide)

The Last Blacksmith

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Tampa, Florida. AUGUST 30, 2021



A few hours after the match with Iceman, and the Mantis attack, Blacksmith lies on a hospital bed, bandaged, due to numerous burns sustained after being thrown by his former adept on a burning table.


The Italian is visibly stunned due to the numerous medications administered to him to soothe the pain...



???: You succeeded


With difficulty, Blacksmith turns his head to his right


Blacksmith: Ah. Why always you?


???: This is a question you should ask yourself. You know very well that they are a projection of your mind



Blacksmith responds in a low voice, in pain. But without losing the irony


Blacksmith: At least you look very pretty I must say. Pretty dress. The same you used in August 15, 2020?


???: Are you satisfied?


???: He is a monster now. As you wanted.



Blacksmith turns his head again, looking at the ceiling.


Blacksmith: Even today here to blame me. Not a surprise I must say


???: You played with his weaknesses. You leveraged his need for approval. You made him believe that the world is an infamous place, and that nobody should be trusted...


Blacksmith: Are you blaming me for letting him see the truth?


???: Your truth... This is not his world. and it might not even be yours



Blacksmith: Nice speech. You talk about playing with weaknesses to get what you want ...


Blacksmith:the difference between people like me and people like you does not lie in our actions. But in the fact that at least we have the courage to admit that we are sons of a bitch of the worst kind.


Blacksmith:We have the courage to describe the world for what it is. A dirty world, where you can only rely on yourself. And we act accordingly.


???: You do not understand. Mantis is more dangerous than you. He is terrified. Fear took over and resulted in anger. Nothing can stop him morally. He's not as rational as you are. It is dangerous for others, and for himself.


???: Whatever happens, you will be the one to hold the blame.


Blacksmith: And not a single fuck is given.


???: you are irrecoverable, Matteo.



The figure disappears, and Blacksmith is alone in the hospital room again.

Blacksmith: Damned Ibuprofen...


Scene fades in dark...

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