The boyish man stood in the disciplinarian’s office awaiting his punishment. He stood in his leather jacket and greased hair, looking rather cool or debonair. The genuine nature of himself was hard to define. He had mystery wrapped up all together. He knew the rules and and the punishments for each infraction. The disciplinarian had given him the strap before. The strap was no mystery to this failing pupil. He knew its bite could take skin, especially if Doctor Pain himself, Igor Mengele, disliked you. He would wind up for a full arc of suffering and prepare to take it again as it was mandatory to hit not once, not twice, but three times. His hands would puff after each strapping and he will feel tender in his palms for a week, but he knew that there was no way around it till now.
What changed was the fact that his eighteenth birthday had passed and he was certain that this would gain him some fame. He knew the old bastard would gear up as usual and even talk if he so pleased. The talking was really to suck you into the false hope that there could be a last-minute reprieve and you would not face the humiliation of tears running down your cheeks as you passed a group of girls. That was the ultimate humiliation of all time, especially at this age. Now he would get back for all those who had come before. Mengele would pay for all that humiliation that he had meted out throughout his years as the school’s disciplinarian. Today would mark the beginning of a new career, a chance to redeem himself.
“So once again I find you before me. As usual, you are here for fighting. I take it you still object to this sort of punishment?”
The young man responded with silence and a slight smirk.
“Just get it over with already. I can’t wait to go home.” finally spit out of his mouth.
“All right, present your hands.”
The young man put up his hands, palms facing up and prepared for the bite of his punishment. He breathed deep and tried to steel himself against the sting.
“As usual, you will receive three lashes, but you should have already known that.”
Mengele made a show of opening the box on his desk and then pulling out the strap. There was total silence in the office as he stood from his desk and rounded the corner. Mengele was ready. He approached the junior man and raised his arm above his head. The strap came down hard and hit the flesh of the adolescent man’s hands with a loud crack. The callow man winced as Mengele raised the strap again. This time Mengele smiled and brought the strap down even harder than the first time.
You stupid fucker, thought the immature man, if only you knew what was coming. You’ll regret this yet.
“Prepare for the final strap young master.” said Mengele as he raised his hand yet again.
This final strap hit him and tears rolled down his eyes as he took it. Then it was over.
“All right, you are free to go home for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, whatever. See you tomorrow.”
The boyish man smirked again and intended to follow through with his secret plans of revenge. Without a word, he left Mengele’s office and headed for his locker. He had planned this day for a while and was ready. He retrieved a ball-peen hammer from his locker he had stolen from shop class and concealed it under his coat. He headed for the front door and the sun outside. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky.
There was a slight breeze that took the edge off the mid-June heat. The childish man headed straight for the staff parking lot and Mengele’s car. When he got there, he took a cautious look around. The parking lot stood invisible from the school as the shades remained drawn on all the windows facing it and there was nobody moving near the cars. Since school was still in all the other pupils would be busy in class. The immature man didn’t waste any time as he approached Mengele’s car.
He pulled the hammer out of his coat and smashed the passenger’s side window. Then he smashed the others out as he made his way around the car. He paused for a minute and then fled the scene after dropping the hammer. He knew all his friends would know who had done the deed, saying nothing to them. He felt vindicated that he had gotten his revenge.