Luca’s War

“You will not survive a war with me.”

I looked into his eyes and honestly, my stomach had a few butterflies in it. I hadn’t expected to meet with him at all, let alone on a street corner. At night. Alone.

I took a deep breath, and he let me. “I had no intentions of taking part in any war, Luca, let alone one I might not survive.” The night air was cold, and I was glad I’d stuffed my hands into my pockets before coming out of the diner. It also helped by not giving away my fear as we stood there face to face.

He didn’t respond right away. Was he considering my words? Testing my resolve? Wondering if I was lying? I couldn’t tell. If there was ever a face that could not be read, it was his. Stone cold and almost always completely void of life, he continued to stare. But finally, after a few more unnerving moments of silence, he spoke again. “I want you to understand something,” he seethed, from behind clenched teeth, eyes narrowing slightly, “Whatever it is you want… whatever it is you’re searching for, you need to forget about it. Am I making myself abundantly clear?”