November 2, 2025
On the outskirts of the city of Santo Domingo.
Have you ever wondered what would have happened if Hitler had won the war? The truth is, I have, and I also know that countless people have, but they would all deny it if anyone ever asked them.
Just think about it. Maybe this world wouldn't be as rotten as it is now. I know many would scold me if they heard these words, others would punch me, and some would even sentence me to death. I can't blame them for that. That man was insane, I admit it.
But think about it just a little. The world would be unified under a single flag, so many of the conflicts we have now wouldn't exist. A world governed more strictly would surely be better, which leads me to ask: where did everything go to hell?
There is something I am sure of, and that is that even after Hitler's defeat, there was still an opportunity for unification. But the Americans didn't want to take the world for themselves. Maybe they thought it would still belong to them anyway. That way, they could harvest the planet's resources without the obligation to solve everyone's problems.
Maybe you're all wondering, what is this guy talking about? Big words as if he had the solution to everything.
The truth is, I'm a complete nobody with a bit of intelligence, trying to make a living in the miserable slums of some very poor country in South America.
The truth is, these are just random thoughts in my head, meant to lighten the weight of what I'm about to do. You couldn't say that I'm nervous, because I've done this before, but my body is still very tense and I can't avoid it. Reflecting on my life, I only have one question for myself.
How did I fall this low?
After thinking for a while, only one answer came to mind.
In the world I live in, the lower you fall and the crazier your actions are, the more fear you provoke in those around you. And the more fear you cause, the more respect you get from those who don't know you, thus creating a terrible vicious cycle.
That's the criminal world. There is no escape for those who enter it.
"Boss, the Black guy just called. We've already caught the little sheep."
This guy with messy hair and the large scar on his face that runs from his left eye to his ear is marked by a bullet that failed to take his life. They call him Fever. The truth is, I don't know his real name, but you can be sure that I know every member of his family.
"Then have them taken to the slaughterhouse. I want to finish this today."
I simply gave Fever the instructions and immediately got into a black double-cabin pickup truck. Fever didn't waste time and took the driver's seat. Then we headed to the slaughterhouse.
Calling it the slaughterhouse is just symbolic. In reality, it's nothing more than a wooded area far from any place or person. I got out of the truck and looked at the scene in front of me, very satisfied.
"Well done, little Black guy. Now I need these little sheep to turn into parrots and talk. Where is my merchandise? I need that information today."
After giving him a few pats on the back, I looked at the five people who were tied up, each to a chair.
"Oh little black sheep, little black sheep, what or who gave you confidence? Did you think you had the ability to steal two tons of cocaine from me without me finding out?"
As I spoke, I tried to contain my anger, but I think everyone present could tell how furious I was.
The truth is, the two tons don't matter much to me. What really matters and fills me with rage is that there are still people who dare to challenge my authority in this miserable country. I thought I had completely eliminated that type of rat who believes they stand outside the sky, but the truth is there will always be people with ideas of freedom, even when I control everything.
"Alright, little sheep. This will be my first and last offer. Whoever tells me, and with whose help you managed to get the merchandise out of the country, will be spared this ending."
Without saying another word, I took action. I grabbed an axe from the back of the truck and lunged at one of the little sheep at random. I swung the axe over and over again until there was nothing left of him but that.
Covered in blood, I turned my gaze to the other four little sheep.
"You have one minute. If no one has spoken by then, one of you can turn into that thing."
As I said this, I pointed with the axe toward the indescribable mess I had just made.
"Lucy, give me a cigarette."
"Right away, boss."
Lucy is a young dark-skinned man, thin and slight, but very diligent, which earned him a place among the high ranks of our gang, "The Lions." It must be said that this guy is a hopeless psychopath.
Months ago, he became infamous for killing his entire family. The reason was that they refused to tell him where they had hidden his marijuana.
I took the cigarette Lucy handed me and took a long drag to calm myself. Even though it seemed like I did it easily, the truth is I could barely take two steps in a row.
After witnessing the live example, one of the little sheep quickly spoke, just as I had imagined. A high-ranking government official had accepted a bribe from a gang from the neighboring country and had eased the checkpoints all the way to the border where they negotiated the merchandise.
"Ah, the desire to break free even when things are going very well. For some individuals, that ambition is impossible to contain. Lucy, shoot the parrot in the head, and sacrifice the other little sheep like the first one."
"Thank you, boss, for giving me that pleasant task."
With those words, Lucy wasted no time and shot the man who spoke in the head. Then he grabbed the axe and walked toward one of the little sheep.
After a few minutes, before me lay a scene worthy of a Hollywood horror movie.
I turned around and slowly walked back to the truck. I took the wheel and signaled my men not to follow me. Then I drove aimlessly for an hour. Without realizing it, I now found myself in front of my old school. I looked at my blood-stained clothes and fell into a trance, thinking about how my life had come to this.
From outside, I could see the place where my classroom used to be. Then a flood of old memories invaded me from when I had just entered eighth grade.
April 8, 2005, twenty years ago.
"Alright, introduce yourselves. Your names, which elementary school you come from, what you like to do, or your favorite food."
The first task given to us by teacher Leticia Andrade, the one in charge of our class, was to introduce ourselves. I think it was there that I began to understand, though not completely, how society works.