Author: lookskindagreyout PM
YET ANOTHER view on the morbid roots of the Los Illuminados, from the views of both Bitores Mendez and Ramon Salazar. What does it take to earn the faith of a Madman?Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror - B. Mendez & R. Salazar - Chapters: 6 - Words: 7,617 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-06-09 - Published: 05-14-08 - id: 4256253
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I wrote this as a favor to myself. Often times I write my fanfics casting Ramon Salazar as a tradgic villian, to be misundrstood, used, and cast away in the end, as these are the things that happen to tradgic villians, as always. But this...'Faithful"... this casts him as something a little different... And, at last, Bitores is given some say as to how it all began.
I do not own any characters affiliated to the Resident evil trademark. actually, they own me. : D
He smelled good- the smell of wealth and refinement. He smelled of fresh, salted lemons, and clean hair. The fact that his scent was pleasant was so very unsettling.
He had somehow expected the smell of death and blood to hover about Ramon Salazar.
Bitores Mendez did not want to be here. Simply the thought of being here, in the lavish home of a man he hated while his people struggled and toiled to survive, disgusted him. Bitores watched the small man, whom was reading over a list of expenses he had just received, and suddenly wanted to strangle him.
Ramon looked up, his golden eyes flashing over his reading glasses. 'So, how long is it that you wish for me to suspend taxation?'
Bitores folded his large hands behind his back, hoping he looked authoritive through his one eye. 'A month, Lord Salazar. Two would be excellent, but I could manage to get things sorted out in a month, at the least.'
Ramon considered, studying the large man's face absently. Bitores tried his hardest to hide a shiver under the gaze. Ramon removed his glasses, stowing them in his golden vest and returning the list to the desk, 'You have one week,' he said finally.
Ramon sat bolt upright, his long silver ponytail falling across his shoulder. 'No? Did you just say no to me, senior Mendez?'
'I-I need more time, senior-' Bitores started.
'Allow me to remind you, senior- no, chief Mendez- I am the castellan of the Salazar province. You and your people live here strictly from my good graces; to me, you are nothing more than ganados. I ask very little of you. I allow you to govern yourselves, to build and to farm, and I even protect you┘ yet you see fit to challenge my authority? Don't be foolish,' Ramon did not raise his voice above a soft whisper, nor did he avert his eyes from Bitores' face, 'I am a very powerful man, Chief Mendez- I do not look it, but I am. I will not tolerate your impertinence.' He sat back in his leather desk chair, crossing his legs. 'One week.'
Bitores sighed, bowed, and turned to leave. Nothing could be done, now. His people were condemned to a frozen, starving winter.
Bitores paused, looking back over his shoulder. Ramon watched him over interlaced fingers. 'Yes, senior?' Could it be a hint of compassion from the cold, impassive castellan?
'I will give you a month and one week... if you do something for me,' He said softly.
Bitores turned back to the desk, 'What is your task?' He questioned uneasily.
'I want to see your eye.'
'I beg your pardon, senior?' Bitores stammered, taken aback.
Ramon motioned to the eye patch covering the chiefs' ruined left eye. 'Let me see your eye, and I will suspend the taxes for your little village.' A spark of morbid interest seemed to glow in his eyes.
Bitores swallowed, raising his hand to the leather patch. He grimaced, thinking of the starving townsfolk and gathering his courage, 'Very well, senior,' he replied at last.
'Kneel before the desk, please,' Ramon commanded, and Bitores followed his instructions, dropping to his knees before the writing desk. Ramon pushed himself from his seat, creeping across the desk , sitting on his knees and taking the chiefs' face in his hands. His long, pail fingers were cold, and Bitores' face burned as he glared up at the castellan.
Ramons' face was calm as his fingers crept upward, lifting the eye patch away from Bitores' face. The castellans' eyes widened with horror, and a smile played on his wine-colored lips in delight. At last he returned the patch, sitting back. 'Thank you, Bitores,' He said, 'A month and one week, as promised.'
Bitores rose and departed without looking at the castellan. He was ashamed and humiliated, feeling somehow violated by the experience. He wanted very much to kill Lord Salazar.
Ramon Salazar watched Bitores leave the castle from the battlements, giggling softly to himself.
End part one.