I always meant to rewrite this chapter because there's no mention in the archive that I didn't write the original, and it makes me look pretty bad. (Even worse than the early Lucca chapters do. ;) Comments welcome, but remember before you say anything bad--it can't be worse than the original. :)

Jon Doe chapter 1

A Man's Home

In the box was her whole life. In the box was everything, severed of meaning.

Facs Sodim had no illusions of safety, not in his line of work. He knew the risks, what could happen if he was caught embezzling money from the herbaceutical company he ran. He'd have to answer to its board of directors, to the shareholders, and quite possibly to the Evergreen authorities. The difference between those organizations, however, and the Sinister Mafia that held a forty percent share in the corporation was like the difference between stepping on a tack and getting your leg caught in a bear trap.

So even though Sodim had hired the best when it came to laundering his money and fudging the books, he employed a detail of bodyguards at all times and took every precaution possible with his safety. This had been going on for weeks, however, and he was slowly being forced to come to terms with the knowledge that he'd have to steal more money to keep his bodyguards on the payroll. Most of the money that he'd originally taken was gone, spent on a large new home for himself and his gorgeous young fourth wife.

The box was empty now. Its contents were on the ground.

It was only in this home that he allowed himself to relax. His personal bodyguards, undercover spotters and advance men went home for the evening and he would enjoy a meal with his mistress Crystal. He'd dealt with enough Mafia types to know how sacred they held a man's home. The rest of the time he lived in constant danger, but his home was safe. Here he could be himself.

"What did you do today?" he asked Crystal, removing his coat and sitting across from her at the long cherry dining table, imported from Shinkyo. The places were set with silver plates and utensils over a thick white linen tablecloth.

"Well, I worked on the living room a little," she smiled. Crystal started out as Sodim's new interior decorator, but it wasn't long before Sodim decided to prepare her to become his fifth wife. Marie, while young and gorgeous, was also cold and distant. She considered herself above working, and didn't contribute to the household earnings. Worst of all, though, she refused to take up the duties of cooking and cleaning while Facs was at work. The monthly paycheck for their servant Zickos was starting to take its toll, and Facs knew that someday soon he would have to let him go or be forced to take even more money, on an even more regular basis. Marie was going to start pulling her weight around here, he resolved, or Crystal could just step in and replace her. Crystal was every bit as attractive and furthermore knew how to make herself useful. It was intolerable, having a wife that couldn't at the very least cook his meals. Because Sodim loved his meals.

She dropped the box. It lay there on the ground, in the dust and ashes.

Zickos came into the room, bearing the tray on which tonight's roast lay. The short, bald man set it on the table carefully and announced that the drinks were forthcoming shortly. He retreated silently into the kitchen to retrieve the wine. Sodim smiled at Crystal.

Crystal was around the house every day, working on the furnishings, but her only evening visits were once a month, when Sodim's gorgeous young frigid fourth wife was visiting her family in Ahren. The transportation was just one more thing that Facs had to account for in his growing expenditure. Marie never learned to ride, so instead of leasing one chocobo for the round trip, it had to be a driver and a whole chocobo team.

The worst part, Sodim thought glumly as the kitchen doors opened, was that he'd have to pay even more money when he divorced her.

She had no idea what she would do now.

Across the room, Crystal cocked an eyebrow, silently questioning Facs' grim expression, just before she exploded. The cavernous dining room amplified the echoing report from the gun. Sodim sat there numbly, his breathing shallow, unable to believe what he had just seen. He wanted to get up and rush over to her, but he was wearing his bib. All he could think of in the face of the cold horror in front of him was his bib. He would die with it on unless he took it off right now.

Instead, he turned his head to the right to see who was in his house. There stood a man of average height, just a hair above six feet tall. The stranger's build was impossible to tell under the loose tan trenchcoat he wore, and his eyes were hidden by dark glasses. The hair that Sodim could see, under the hat, was light brown. He was nondescript in almost every way save for what he held in his hands.

There were long, black, well-polished hunks of metal, in the shape of an L. The stranger held one end while the other pointed straight ahead. The straight-ahead end appeared to be hollow, and smoke was pouring forth from it. He had never seen anything like them before, but they terrified him all the same.

The stranger lifted one of the things so that the straight-ahead end was pointing right at him. Sodim could see into the hollow opening. There was nothing there but blackness and smoke. The stranger tensed his hand, very lightly, very quickly, and the last thing Sodim thought before the armor-piercing bullet hit his chest and fragmented inside him was that he was still in his house, eating his supper. Sodim was supposed to be invincible here, but he was blown out of his chair and died all the same.

Marie gazed dully at Facs' head on the floor, beside the box it came in. She didn't know how to work. She'd always refused to learn, knowing that she would eventually marry rich. She couldn't go to her parents for help, they hadn't spoken in four years. And Philip would probably stay away from her now that she was connected with ... this head in a box. She sighed and closed her eyes. She'd always feared losing him to someone like Crystal, not to a killer. She looked up for an answer, saw the white tower in the distance, and thought: Well, there's always the Mafia.

"It is useful to associate with each closed sentence a validity game. This will be an infinite game we may imagine we are playing against a malevolent universe. If we win, the sentence is valid; if the universe wins, the sentence is not valid." --Zohar Manna, _The Deductive Foundations of Computer Programming_

Nich Maragos | nichm@thegia.com | http://home.olemiss.edu/~nmaragos