Neon Powder

Location: Bogotá, Colombia. 
 

Date: May 6th, 2066. 
 

Time: 12:01 a.m. 

 

     One of the most dangerous men on the planet lay on a hospital bed. It had been decades since the man’s real name had been mouthed by anyone, to the point where nobody even knew what his real name was anymore. Instead, he was known worldwide as El Diablo Neon, a name that produced admiration for his allies and uncontrollable dread for his enemies. It was said that even God knew not to mess with El Diablo. However, a quick look at the man was enough to realize that he no longer was this feared figure. His resting body was surrounded by flashing lights, and multiple needles stabbed his arms. His skin was sucked against his weak bones. The only part of his body that seemed functional was his metallic right leg. The leg had multiple transparent thin tubes implanted that transported colourful fluids. In the corner of the room, an enormous figure resembling a man wearing a black cloak rested on a chair while looking at the old man. Other than for the occasional beep, the room was completely silent.

​

     El Diablo’s daughter, Yuritza, looked at him from outside the room through a window. In her reflection, she saw her tattoo, a golden neon butterfly on her left eyebrow. Yuritza stood silent, caressing her necklace, a small silver sphere. Not a tear to be seen. After all, she had already cried enough; she was ready to let her father go to a well-deserved rest.

 

     “We need to talk,” a female voice told Yuritza. The voice came from a woman wearing a white coat. The woman’s head was completely shaved, and a blue fox tattoo rested on top of it. The woman, whose hands were made out of metal, handed a tablet to Yuritza.

​

     Yuritza turned her head to the dark figure next to her father. “Not here, doc.”

​

     The two women walked away from the window. The doctor pointed at the tablet, “As you can see, we have received the report of the day.”

 

     Yuritza said nothing as she scrolled down.

​

     “The fact he is alive right now is a miracle,” the doctor admitted.

 

     “He’s always been one of God’s favourites. Wouldn’t you agree?”

 

     “At what time are you meeting with the journalist?” the doctor whispered.

 

     “In about an hour.”

​

     “Your dad doesn’t have much time. You’ll need the journalist to accept your deal tonight, Yuritza. Things will get messy if El Diablo dies before the deal gets made.”

 

     Yuritza returned the tablet to the doctor. “I’m aware. It’s my plan. I don’t need someone explaining it to me.”

 

     “I-I’m sorry. I just…”

 

     “Trust me. I also want this to be over. I promised you and everyone else helping me that I would get you out of this place. I’ll keep my promise.”

 

     “I want my kids to have a better life. That’s all.”

 

     “Look, I have to leave now. Do me a favour and keep me updated. Ok?” Yuritza told the doctor before exiting the hospital.

 

     A starless and cloudy night sky welcomed Yuritza outside. She began walking towards the meeting point. Yuritza knew those streets by heart. After all, she had grown up in El Cartucho. The neighbourhood of El Cartucho was her home. For others, however, it was the land of vice and sin. Run by El Diablo Neon, El Cartucho was the only place on the planet where the production and distribution and production of Cocatope was legal. Cocatope was a derivative of Cocaine, and even though the only visual difference between the two was the former's bright colours, Cocatope was more valuable, powerful, and addictive. El Cartucho had existed for over 40 years within the Colombian capital, and since its conception, El Diablo had been the one in charge of it. However, his imminent death meant it was time for Yuritza to execute her plan.

 

     She arrived at her destination, an old-looking brick building covered in glowy, illegible graffiti. She leaned against the building's door and looked at the time on her wristwatch. "There's no turning back now," Yuritza murmured to herself.

 

     She caressed her necklace while she waited. In a matter of minutes, Yuritza saw a man wearing a bright skeleton mask awkwardly walking toward her.

 

     "I'm glad you made it," Yuritza told the man, who was about to take his mask off before Yuritza slapped his hand away.

 

     "What the fu–" he objected.

 

     "Shhh. Take it off inside. Follow me."

 

     Yuritza placed her palm on a brick next to the building’s door, and the door automatically opened. The man followed Yuritza inside. The door closed behind them.

 

     The inside of the building smelled like fresh coffee and was lit by warm yellow light bulbs. The room that welcomed them resembled an open kitchen. All the furniture was made out of thick wood and looked handmade. Under their legs rested a mosaic tile floor that resembled multiple orchids. Hanging on every wall were pictures of old Colombian landscapes, landscapes full of greenery and life, landscapes that no longer existed.

 

     "Welcome to my home," Yuritza exclaimed.

 

     "Wow," the man said.

 

     "Beautiful, isn't it?" she giggled." Without missing a beat, Yuritza gracefully removed the man's mask and threw it to the side, revealing the man's identity: Angel Torres, the most influential Colombian journalist in recent history. You won't need that thing here," she added before offering him her hand.

 

     Angel shook it. "I can't believe I'm actually meeting you in person. It is a pleasure," he said before releasing her hand.

 

     "Aren't you adorable? The pleasure’s all mine, Angel. It's awfully cold outside. Would you like some hot chocolate?" she asked him.

 

     "I'm good. Thank you."

 

     "Your loss."

​

     Yuritza went to the kitchen counter and grabbed a mug from a drawer and a kettle beside the sink. She served herself some hot chocolate, went to the fridge, took a cube of white cheese, and dropped it onto the mug. "Please take a seat on the couch. I'll be there in just a moment." 

​

     Angel did as he was told and waited. Yuritza sat next to him, mixing the contents in her mug with a fork. She raised the fork, and Angel saw the melting cheese stretching from the mug to Yuritza's mouth. She took a bite, then put the mug and fork down. 

​

     "So, based on your emails, trying to reach out, it is my understanding that you have some valuable information for me. Correct?" Angel asked.

 

     "You don't beat around the bush, do you? I respect that." Yuritza cleared her throat. "Yes, I have information for you. Information so valuable that I couldn't risk it getting intercepted. Information that will help dismantle El Cartucho for good. Information that will prevent a potential war from being unleashed."

 

     All of a sudden, the room became quiet, and the atmosphere became heavy. Yuritza and Angel stared at each other, trying to read the other's thoughts.

 

     "Why would you give me something as important as that?" Angel finally asked.

 

     "My father is dying," Yuritza said.

 

     "Excuse me?"

 

     "His lifestyle has finally caught up to him. I'd be genuinely surprised if he holds out for more than a couple of days."

 

     Yuritza noticed a sudden upward curvature of Angel's lips.

 

     "Does that make you happy?" she asked.

 

     "Huh?"

 

     "The news that my father’s dying. Does that make you happy? Answer the question."

​

     "No! He is a human being. I would never be happy about someone dying."

​

     "You’re a horrible liar," Yuritza laughed. "But I want to hear you. Tell me, what's your opinion of my father?" she asked, placing the back of her hand under her chin.

 

     "Well, he is… a powerful man."

 

     "He certainly is."

 

     "I do wonder if using that power to poison millions of people all over the world with Cocatope is…." Angel looked to the side and stared at one of the landscapes, “the best choice," he added.

 

     "‘Poison’might be a little strong, don't ya think? Besides, we're not forcing people to consume it."

 

     "That is not how drugs work."

 

     "I hear you. I just think your view might be a little too one-dimensional. For starters, you're ignoring everything my father’s done for the country. Better infrastructure, education, and health care, all possible thanks to the exportation of Cocatope."

 

     "I can't overlook the fact that Cocatope is destroying people’s lives."

 

     "I surely can. 95% of our production goes to the US, and I couldn't care less about some gringos. I know you live there now, but you must admit how sick and twisted those people are."

 

     "Colombia is seen as a cesspool on an international level because of the Cocatope industry.

​

     Do you know how hard it was for me to get where I am right now? I had to fight prejudices and xenophobia, both fueled by your father's actions. Thousands of people have to endure the same thing. Colombians are also victims here."

 

     "The good that we've been able to do for Colombia is immeasurable. Besides, you know that the Colombian Accord forbids us from directly attacking the government or the general population. Also, it’s still illegal for us to sell Cocatope outside El Cartucho. Colombians are fine."

 

     "That accord is the only thing I can applaud your father for, but even then, it has its flaws."

 

     "The Colombian government allows us to do whatever we want within El Cartucho. In exchange, we don't mess with them. This deal helps us leave the Colombian population out of the conflict. If you ask me, it's the fucking perfect system."

 

     "If that's what you think, why would you want to end the operation?"

 

     "I want the operation to disappear once my father dies because becoming the boss comes with a lot of power. And the truth is that there's nobody worthy of following in my father's footsteps."

 

     "After everything you've told me, especially regarding the good you genuinely think you are doing. Wouldn't letting the system die be selfish?"

 

     'Selfish.' That last word felt like a stab to Yuritza's heart. Her mind was flooded with the same question: was she being selfish? She had put the weight of the whole country on her shoulders, and no matter her decision, someone would lose. As such, she figured she would make the decision that benefited her the most. Yes, she was being selfish, and she knew it.

 

     "It is! It is selfish! I feel like I'm letting millions of Colombians down, but I can't let everything fall into the wrong hands," she snapped before knocking her mug onto the floor.

 

     Clearly unimpressed with Yuritza’s lack of self-control, Angel decided not to comment on her reaction. "Who would become the new boss?"

 

     She ignored the question. Yuritza closed her eyes and took a deep breath before speaking again. "Follow me. Let me show you something."

​

     Yuritza stood up and walked towards a wall. She pushed it and revealed a new room. "What are you waiting for?"

 

     Angel remained quiet.

 

     "Oh, please. Now you are scared? You had to traverse through one of the world's most feared neighbourhoods, hoping a mask would be enough to conceal your identity. Going into a simple room shouldn't be that difficult, sweetie."

 

     "You really need me, don't you? You would even ignore our differences to keep me on board with whatever you want me to do."

 

     "Are you coming in?"

 

     Reluctantly, he agreed and followed her. The room was dark. Yuritza pulled a string on the ceiling, turning on the sole lightbulb in the room. The walls were covered with pictures of people. Some had Xs over their faces, while others were connected through wool strings. There was a picture higher than the rest: a picture of El Diablo.

 

     "You wonder who would become the new boss. Well, this might help reveal the answer," she said, twirling around the room. "As you can see, my father is on top, and under him, there are 12 people, his 12 apostles, if you will. They are his sub-bosses and would all be in contention to take over the business once my father leaves us."

 

     Angel kept looking at the pictures as if trying to remember as much as he could. He touched the pictures and murmured the names of the people he recognized. He was in the middle of a gold mine of information.

 

     "The truth of the matter is that I don't think any of those 12 idiots is ready. I did some research and found that none of them has plans to follow the Colombian Accord. They all think El Cartucho has enough power to take over the country," Yuritza admitted.

 

     "And is that true? Would El Cartucho be able to take over?"

​

     "Yes."

 

     "Why are some faces crossed with Xs?"

 

     "Well, I'm 'eliminating' key pieces from the board to destabilize the power structure as much as possible. I've been meticulous in choosing my targets wisely. Even though I'd love to eliminate all of the apostles, I need to ensure that no one suspects what's happening." She points at one of the crossed pictures. Take this idiot, for example.

 

     “Joaquin Ballesteros. One of the FBI's most wanted."

 

     "Oh, Joaquin. He was a good man.” There was a moment of silence before she laughed. “No, he wasn't. He was an asshole. Pretty loyal guy, though. Joaquin was supposed to be out of the country. So, his not being here doesn't raise any red flags."

 

     "That…makes sense."

 

     "Thank you. I know. Everyone but one person has been taken care of. Are you familiar with Martillo?

 

     "No. Who is he?"

 

     "Think of him as my father's shadow."

 

     "El Diablo's right hand?"

 

     "In a way. His bodyguard."

 

     "I presume he won't be happy if he realizes what you are doing."

 

     "He's not gonna be happy regardless. He's waiting for my father to die so he can finally kill me. He's always been jealous of me. Oh, love. Isn't it a beautiful thing? Whatever. Without my father's protection, I'm an easy target. Luckily for me, so is he."

​

     "Wouldn't it be simpler to kill him before he gets the chance to get to you?"

​

     "He means a lot to my father, and I can’t take away someone so important to him during his last moments. Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not a monster."

 

     "Where's this Martillo now?"

 

     "He is at the medical wing of El Cartucho, taking care of my father. Don't worry. I have eyes everywhere, and they'll let me know if something happens."

 

     "So, you are not acting alone."

 

     "No, some people are helping me by compiling information, eliminating targets, and keeping the conspiracy under wraps."

 

     "What are they gaining out of this?"

 

     "Freedom. See this mark?" Yuritza pointed at her tattoo. "Everyone who is part of the power structure, regardless of rank, has an animal tattoo. The ink is neon-based, making it impossible to erase. We are forever marked. Outside El Cartucho, we are under constant threat. We are not welcome. My allies are helping me because I promised them a new life."

 

     "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

 

     "That's where you come in, dummy. I know you have the influence needed to give me and my allies immunity."

 

     "And where exactly did you get that idea from?"

 

     "Isn't it obvious? I did my research. Your father is part of the Colombian government. Your wife holds an influential position in the United Nations. Also, am I right to assume that your journalistic prowess has helped you obtain a high level of respect on an international level?" 

"I suppose." 

​

     "Well, Angel Torres, I'd like to strike a deal to ensure my and my allies' complete immunity in exchange for the information needed to put an end to the Cocatope trade. Everything is here." Yuritza ripped her necklace off and opened the silver ball, revealing a small white cube she gave to Angel.

 

     "What is in here?"

 

     "This information cube holds data regarding the location of Cocatope laboratories, routes taken from Colombia to the US, names of key individuals and distributors, and a shitload more information, including proof that a change of management would lead to war. Just put the cube into your computer, and you'll be able to see everything."

 

     "This is…a lot. I don't get it. Wouldn't it be easier for you to simply take control?"

 

     "I'm tired of this lifestyle. Ok? Just like you said…I'm selfish. I would just like to relax somewhere in the Mediterranean with no cares in the world. Start from zero. The only way to ensure my tranquillity is by obtaining immunity, and that's why you are here. All of your connections will help me."

 

     Angel looked around the room, his eyes going from picture to picture. Yuritza observed him and noticed a sudden change in him. There was something sinister in his lack of expression, but Yuritza didn't understand why.

 

     "We have a deal," Angel said with a chilling calmness.

 

     "Perfect."

 

     "I don't blame you for wanting out if I'm being honest. Living in this place doesn't exactly seem like the dream, you know?"

 

     "What do you mean?"

 

     "That must be one of the reasons. You want a change of scenery. Like, for example, I couldn't keep track of the number of junkies I ran into while trying to get here. They are barely humans anymore. They are like…creatures. I understand where you are coming from."

 

     "Unfortunately, there's a point where you get used to them and no longer notice that they are there. They are here by choice."

​

     "And turn into mere obstacles to be avoided."

 

     "A harsh critique, especially coming from you. I thought you held yourself to a higher moral standard."

 

     "I do see myself as a good person, but there's a point where you have to judge which people are worth saving and which are not. The truth is that the creatures who live here are nobodies, worthless even. You can't disagree with me. After all, you are responsible for what has happened to them."

 

     "What we did was for the greater good."

 

     "What you are doing NOW is for the greater good. Thanks to your findings, I'll be able to save Colombia. I'll be able to fix its reputation."

 

     "Yes, you."

 

     "We. You understand me, don't you? This is going to change lives."

 

     "Ange–"

 

     Yuritza's watch started to ring and flash. A hologram of her father's doctor popped up on its screen.

 

     Angel noticed a nervous frown on Yuritza. "Is he dead?" Angel whispered.

 

     "I don't know. I don't want to answer."

​

     "You have to. Who is it?"

 

     "My father's doctor. She said she would call me if anything were to happen," she groaned, touching the hologram. The picture was replaced by a miniature version of the doctor. "Did he…?" Yuritza asked the hologram. 

​

     "Yes, but that's not what's important right now," the doctor answered.

 

     "What do you mean by–"

 

     "Listen. Martillo was blaming me for your father’s death, accusing me of not having done enough. He was choking me, threatening my children! He was asking for a reason to spare my kids and me. I'm sorry."

 

     "What did you do, doc?"

 

     "He let me go when… when I told him everything." 

​

     "Everything?"

 

     "He is coming for you."

 

     Yuritza quickly covered her watch with her hand, making the hologram disappear, and turned to Angel.

 

     "Don't forget about the information cube. We have to go. I know the quickest way out of El Cartucho. There's an archway south from here that connects El Cartucho with the rest of the city. Two robot guards should be there. They are programmed to follow my orders no matter what. If we get there before Martillo, they will blow his brains out," Yuritza explained to Angel.

 

     "Archway's in the south. Got it," he reassured her.

 

     Angel and Yuritza ran towards the building's main door and then outside. It was raining. Thunder and lightning fought for control of the sky.

 

     "Follow me!" Yuritza ordered Angel.

 

     He, however, was distracted by a dark figure staring at them. The figure was three metres tall, fully covered by a black cloak, and held a giant metal hammer. The figure quickly gripped its cloak and ripped it off of his body. Over the sound of thunder, a barbarian scream drilled into Angel and Yuritza's ears. They saw Martillo charging at them, hammer in hand. His hairy chest and disproportionally big arms seemed carved out of stone and served as the canvas for a giant red dragon tattoo. He wore nothing but a pair of chaps over a pair of black briefs. Martillo was a beast made of muscle and popping veins, and Angel and Yuritza had the misfortune of becoming his newest prey.

 

     “Run!” Yurtiza yelled.

 

     Yuritza led the way while Angel closely followed. Like a gazelle, Yuritza elegantly hopped from side to side. On the other hand, Angel struggled to keep up with her, having to push multiple people out of his way while awkwardly trying not to fall. Yuritza quickly wondered if Angel was right after all. Were these people merely obstacles to be avoided? While running, she could see humanity leaving the creatures’ bodies. All buildings surrounding Yuritza were on the verge of collapse and covered in neon lights. A strong smell of urine and smoke invaded her nostrils, and the bass of loud music she hadn't realized was playing before made her insides tremble. She was becoming nauseated. The music grew louder and louder, and the crowd became more concentrated. This was their chance to lose Martillo and reach the archway.

​

     Angel and Yuritza crouched and jumped while running to steer clear of the creatures. Surely, someone as big as Martillo would be unable to maneuver through the crowd? But, Yuritza knew that Martillo was no ordinary man. She heard screams behind her and realized Martillo was swinging his hammer at the crowd, sending people flying left and right. More determined than ever, Yuritza kept running. She saw Angel's face covered in tears behind her. They were almost there. Nothing was going to stop them, not the crowd, not the storm, not Martillo. Neon lights flashed before their eyes, and loud music plugged their ears, but that didn't matter because they could taste freedom. The archway was only a couple of steps away.

 

     Yuritza turned her head and noticed that Angel was no longer running behind her, only to find him on the ground next to an older woman, who was clearly under the influence of Cocatope. Yuritza couldn't hear him but saw Angel mouthing the words, "fucking creature." The woman was rolling and crying on the floor, terrified about the madness surrounding her. Yuritza went back to help Angel stand up. She encircled him with her arms and forced him up off the ground. While doing this, Yuritza met the older woman's teary eyes. They were lost and confused, and their desperation sent a chill through Yuritza's spine. As Yuritza and Angel got ready to run, the woman held onto Angel's legs, making him fall again. Yuritza didn't notice and kept running. Nothing else mattered. The archway was almost close enough to touch. Two robot guards wielding rifles stood expressionless. She was right about the robot guards. Of course, she was. They would protect them from Martillo's rage. An uncomfortable sense of joy overwhelmed her body, but she then turned around and didn't know how to react to what was in front of her.

​

     She saw Martillo raising his hammer and slamming it onto Angel's body. Angel's scream for help drowned in the noise around them. Nobody heard his last few seconds alive. With his hammer still on the ground, Martillo looked at Yuritza. Everyone else had fled; even the older woman was nowhere to be seen. The music stopped.

​

     "Get ready to engage," Yuritza yelled at the two robot guards, who immediately aimed their guns at Martillo.

 

     "You didn't deserve him," Martillo said, pushing the hammer's handle to the side. “You were ready to turn your back on his legacy and destroy everything he had worked so hard for, and for what? Fear? Pathetic.”

 

     "You are right. I was going to destroy everything. But, perhaps what needs to be done is a…restructuring."

 

     "How can you say that with such calmness? His structure was already perfect. He—he was perfect. He was the only one who didn't treat me like a killing machine. I felt like a person when I was next to him, and now he is gone, and you don't even care."

 

     "He was not perfect. I no longer even think that he was a… a good man."

 

     "I'm going to break you in half!" Martillo yelled, charging at the archway.

 

     "Fire," Yuritza whispered at the robot guards.

 

     Without hesitation, the two robot guards took aim at Martillo with their rifles and shot him. The gladiator's body fell, never to rise again. His magnificent body was covered in bloody patches, adding even more red to his wet chest. Martillo no longer looked like a statue. He looked like a painting, a painting honouring those who had died of unrequited love.

 

     The robot guards returned to their original formation. Yuritza approached Martillo's hammer and stared at the remains of Angel's body. His limbs were the only parts of his body not under the hammer. Blood kept leaking out of his insides. "Nothing more than an obstacle," she said to herself. Maybe Angel was gone, but she could still change the world for the better by herself. She took the information cube she had grabbed from Angel when she had helped him stand up out of her pocket and stared at it, thinking about the endless possibilities. How was she supposed to finish what she had started? She didn't know, but she was damn sure she would not sit down and see her country burst into flames.