Ascension

It was late when we reached the monastery. At the gate I took off the robe and left it on the back seat. I didn't need it anymore.

I walked into the courtyard with my guards behind me and stood below the balcony, where everyone could see me.

"Greetings, everyone!" I shouted. "It's late at night, I know. But here we are."

Lights came on. Doors opened. Faces appeared along the balcony rail. The courtyard was dark except for the lamp over the shrine, and moths were circling it.

"What are you doing?" a student monk called down.

"Wathone, where's your robe?" Sein Htun said.

"Wathone, what are you doing?" Paing Phyo said.

They were all shouting at me from the balcony. I looked up at them.

"I am no longer a monk. I am the next successor of the government, and of this nation."

"Sir! Monk!" Sein Htun shouted over his shoulder.

The monk pushed his way to the rail. "Hey, Wathone, what do you think you're doing? Where is your robe? This is an insult to God!"

"What, monk? Where is your respect?"

"If your father knew—"

"So what? Let my father know. Look, old man. I challenge anyone to come down here and try to stop me."

"Wathone!"

The voice came from far across the courtyard. Kaung Kyaw was coming toward me.

"Wathone, stop. You must not follow in your father's footsteps. You are not him."

"Oh, my favorite person in this monastery. Come here. Come closer."

"Wathone, look at me. You're just a young man. You don't know anything yet."

"Really? How so?"

"I forgive you and your father, for whatever it is. You should forgive yourself too. You can be more than this."

"Really? I can?"

"Yes. Listen. We only have this one lifetime. You still have the choice to be good. Why follow in your father's footsteps?"

"You're right," I said. "I shouldn't."

I lowered my head.

"Look," he said. "We're all here for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, Wathone. You can be my little brother. I can take care of you."

"Wow. Then how about you kneel down and kiss my feet? Hahaha."

"Oh, God…"

"Guards, hold him."

"No, wait. Wathone—"

The guards took his arms. I stepped closer.

"You're right. I shouldn't follow in my father's footsteps. Not if I want absolute power. Thank you."

I rubbed his head.

"Wathone… please, no."

"This kid is beyond saving," the monk said from the balcony. "Sein Htun, give me the phone."

"Old man, who are you trying to call?"

"Your father, you prick!"

"Prick? How about you try the new leader?"

"This kid has gone mad. Sein Htun, come on, hurry up. Find his father's number in here. The one saved under his name."

"Y-ye… yes, sir."

Mm. This fucking monk.

"Guard, give me your gun."

"Um, but sir… your father didn't allow you to use it."

"Oh, really?"

"No, sir. Here's the gun."

I took the gun, and the monks on the balcony ran back inside. I pointed it at Kaung Kyaw's knee.

"You see, Kaung Kyaw, when your parents died, you must have felt so sad. But if I were my father, I would go back to the past and do it again, every time. Make their skin crisp and burnt. Hahaha."

"Ahhhhhh!"

I shot him.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Ah, Barbie girl, it's only your knee. Why are you crying?" I held out my hand. "Guards. The hammer, please."

"Wathone!" the monk shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up."

Mm-hm.

I swung the hammer back and brought it down, and Kaung Kyaw's ribs broke.

"Guard, hold his head."

I smashed his teeth. He bled like a pig. His blood ran into the cracks between the stones.

"Wathone! Hey!" the monk shouted.

"Oh my God, sir!" Sein Htun cried. "I can't watch."

"Oh, God!" Paing Phyo said.

The whole monastery was loud now, screaming. I loved this audience. Such a good crowd. I hit Kaung Kyaw in the side of the ribs again. Now he was crawling.

"Guard, knife, please."

"Yes, sir."

"Why are you making that face, guard? Don't you get paid enough?"

"No, sir. I just want to puke."

"What? Haha. Here. Take the knife and skin him."

"Sir?"

"Hey, Wathone," the monk said. "Son, please don't do this. You will go to hell for this."

"Wathone, it's not good to kill!" Sein Htun shouted. "Someone, please!"

They screamed at me. Oh, it was music to my ears: their crying, their begging. A feeling worth going to hell for.

"What? Are you still standing there? Skin him. Now."

"Sir, I thought you were just scaring him."

"What?"

The guard said nothing.

"Hahaha. No, you silly. Why would I need someone to be scared of me? Go ahead and skin him."

"Sir, please," Kaung Kyaw said. "I beg you."

"Sir… Wathone…" the guard said.

"If I have to say it again, my bullet goes into your head."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Good. Cut at his neck. And pull it down."

"Oh, I can't…"

"Very good. Pull harder."

My heart was slow and steady. The knife made a small wet sound, like someone peeling fruit. I could have listened to it all night.

"Ahhhhhhhh! Sir, please! I beg you, mercy!"

"Why are you pulling sideways, you idiot? You're going to ruin the skin." I sighed. "Ugh. Never mind. I'm bored now. You idiot. Now cut his belly open."

"What?"

I only looked at him, seriously.

"Yes, sir."

"Help… hel… mmp… ghhh…" Kaung Kyaw said.

"Cut sideways. Good. Now pull out the intestines."

"Sir…"

I shot him.

"Ugh. Disappointing."

The guard fell beside Kaung Kyaw and didn't get up. Nobody looked at him.

I pointed at another guard. "You. Yes, you. Do it."

"Yes, sir." His hands were shaking when he picked up the knife.

"God help us! God, have mercy!" the monk cried.

"Oh, good God," Sein Htun said. "The devil has come for us."

"Very good. Pull it all out."

I had never felt so awake. Every scream from the balcony went straight through me, warm, like the first sip of something strong.

"Gahhhhhh… phhh… sssshhh…"

"Wait a minute. Move aside. Let me see." I crouched down. "Ah. That's his kidney."

Kaung Kyaw groaned in pain.

"No, no, don't touch his lung. He'll die."

I stood up and looked at the balcony.

"All right, monks. Remember who I am. Today was unforgettable, wasn't it? I hope to see you again, monk. You've been noisy."

"Devil! You are going to hell!"

"Guards, take me home. I want to rest."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"I'll be waiting for you all in hell!" I shouted up at them. Then, to the driver: "Drive!"

As the car pulled away, I looked back through the window. Kaung Kyaw wasn't moving anymore.

"Sir," the guard beside me said quietly. "I think he stopped breathing."

I didn't answer.

The car moved, and slowly, I arrived home.

"I'm keeping the gun," I told the guard.

"Yes, sir."

"Mom! I'm home. Mom?"

"Oh, sir," the maid said. "They're both in the hospital."

"Oh, really? So it's only you here?"

"Yes, Wathone?" Aunty said, coming out of the kitchen.

"Oh. Well. Goodnight to you both. See you tomorrow, maid."

"Mm. Sir."

I walked slowly into my room and fell down on the bed. It had been fun today. I wanted to do more.

It was my first time holding a gun. It was heavier than it looked. I had used it twice tonight, and the second time, I hadn't even thought about it. I loved it so much.

My phone rang. Who calls at midnight?

I picked up.

"Wathone! What are you doing?"

"Dad?"

"Are you crazy? You killed a Buddhist monk in public?"

"Father, he insulted you."

"What were you thinking, killing a person in front of people's eyes? And you are my son!"

"Father, I think I needed to show them who I am."

"You're not ready. You have to learn more. For now, I'll take care of it. Tomorrow the people are going to be angry and protest. Look what you did!"

"Just do it like before, Father."

"I know. Now you stay home. I'll send my soldiers and guards around the house. Don't go anywhere!"

"Yes, Father. About Mother—"

He hung up.

I sighed. What did he mean, I wasn't ready? I couldn't wait.

Knock, knock.

"Is everything okay, sir?" a guard asked through the door.

"Yes. Leave me be."

My phone rang again. It was Thura.

"Yooo, dude, you're crazy. What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what I should."

"Haha, okay, man. I heard you became your father's successor, in the video. Is that true?"

"What video?"

"You haven't seen it? Oh, man. It's on the news and online. It's everywhere. People are going to be pissed tomorrow, and I'll have to stay home. What are you doing, man?"

"What? It spread that fast?"

"Well, yeah. Your video's even on the international news."

"Well. Fuck."

"Anyway, man, that wasn't my point."

"What do you mean?"

"Since you're in power now, can I ask you for some help, please, friend?"

"What is it?"

"You see, I want to send some young women from the villages to another country. You know. Without people knowing. Secretly."

"You mean trafficking?"

"Well, yeah. That. I want your soldiers to cover my truck until it gets to the border."

"What's in it for me?"

"A lot. Talk to your father. He's going to love it."

"How much are you talking about?"

"In dollars? Three million, in cash. You come to my place and we split it. The cash will be loaded onto the same truck after the women arrive."

"What are they going there for?"

"Work, man. The casinos, the call centres over the border. Don't worry about it. Talk to your father and meet me tomorrow."

"Well, okay. But I can't go out tomorrow. I'll call you back when I'm ready."

"Okay, dude. See you soon."

He hung up.

Three million dollars. Even half of it was more than my father had ever put in my hand. I could bring it to him myself. Then we would see who wasn't ready.

Then my phone rang again.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day. We would see about that.

To be continued...