Luca Cappai

• TRANSLATED with GROK

MINEN

• A mind as cunning as the devil’s itself – doubts are creeping in.
• I don’t know who you’re talking about.
• Yours. You pretend to be an idiot and not know anything, but everywhere you set foot you leave a trail of blood.
• What blood?
• One day, Minen, you’ll croak drinking your own blood.

That was how Lieut*** Ras*** and Minen parted – both perplexed about the suspect’s life expectancy.“He made one joke too many,” Raspen told his office assistant, and the investigation began.In courtMinen: Your Honor, everyone here is accusing me of murders I never committed – people who claim they saw me far away in the mountains of Mars, when I’ve always been sitting in my room chair studying, preparing for my exams.Judge: We saw you at the restaurant on Si*** Av*** while the bartender on duty was being murdered. You were right in front of the cameras.

Minen: But I’ve never left my house!Judge: We’ve learned from several reliable witnesses that you harbored resentment toward the victim over some unpaid debts.

Minen: But resentment toward someone isn’t valid evidence to charge them with murder. We all feel resentment toward somebody.Judge: Minen, are you pretending to be an idiot or are you really one? We’re not sure, and sometimes it seems you’re playing both roles. We have enough evidence to think you’re possessed.

Minen: Possessed? By whom or by what?Judge: By a demon or an alien. According to our sources, it could be both.

Minen: Thank God, then maybe I just need an exorcist.

Judge: You lack tact on many occasions; you slap everyone in the face – even people above you – then suddenly you calm down and play the innocent little kitten. According to our examinations, you’re also possessed by Mother Earth. Minen: Mother Earth? What kind of possession is that?Judge: See? You don’t even realize it. We can’t tell when you’re conscious and when you’re not. We have to take you far away from here.

Minen: Is the trial over?

Judge: I declare this hearing closed.Why was Minen practicing moving objects with his mind?What did he need this power for?What were his intentions?Just for fun, or to cause damage? WHY DID HE SUCCEED?

They had no idea what his real abilities were and came up with all sorts of theories – possessions, schizophrenia.

Minen remained locked up for years in his room, training his supernatural powers. The dream of his life had always been to move objects with his mind.

So many things happened that he eventually attracted the attention of the mass media.

Minen – an antisocial young man who meets very few people during the day, since he’s always shut in his room and only goes out to buy cigarettes and groceries.

He lives alone in a remote village among the mountains.

He doesn’t work and lives on welfare.

Young and brilliant, he loves studying.He tells everyone that “they” speak to him with ultrasound from space or from the space agency – he’s so convinced when he says it that he ends up believing it himself.

But nobody believes him except the media.

They believe him because they communicate the same way – with ultrasound.

Nowadays, neither journalists nor law enforcement use earpieces anymore; they simply hear ultrasound.

Many years ago, internal microchips were implanted that transferred data from one ear to the other; now they’re no longer needed.

Today, in 2050, people receive information through ultrasound, but nobody believes Minen because he is deaf.

COME BACK TO YOUR SENSES

Those are the words people say when they no longer want to listen.There are so many things he’d like to do – one of them is to fly, but that might be the last of his abilities.He tries many times.

He throws himself off the balcony with mattresses placed under the window.He practices every day.

These are the first sources.I’m not ruling it out – it needs to be investigated.

They commit the crime and then accuse others. Mr. Pre***, there’s no way to sell information; the mafias are reading my mind.Mr. Pre***, I hung out with all sorts of people; I knew the whole world, I was friends with everyone and everyone loved me.Everyone hosted me: “Come live with us, kid, you’re always welcome”.

They hit me on the head and I forgot everything – the mafia.I don’t know how they did it.

I only remember that after that blow to the head I couldn’t remember anything anymore; I didn’t even know where I was.I knew too much, I saw too much.

Everyone hosted me, and I knew and saw everything, but I always minded my own business – I drew, studied English and math, stayed in my corner studying, read tons of books about dreams; I was a devourer of books and study.

I loved mathematics and numbers.I outsmarted everyone who tried to outsmart me because they thought they were smarter and more advanced than me.

They’re pieces of shit to the point that they won’t buy the destiny of the world and God’s design; they prefer to buy weapons.

The most powerful weapon in the world is to intervene in time.Answer: the matter is very serious, extremely serious.

They left him the package because I left the bag at that En***man’s house – it’s called revenge; the English police take revenge.

It’s not law. Who organized the revenge? The English police? The mayor?Your Honor, ever since I took all these blows to the head I’ve had constant headaches; sometimes it feels like my head is about to explode and I short-circuit.

I know a policeman who keeps swords at home and has killed many people with a sword.I could even procure explosives.

They noticed that instead of admitting my flaw of jealousy, I investigate those who analyze it; according to them I’m able to change people’s character – I look for cures, they try to change character by making people fake, like jou****.

An uncontrolled gesture like putting hands in someone’s face or nose – does it depend on having seen that movement often, and do we do it unconsciously? And is it related to the malice of the person who did it?

The rejection of traditions, the continuation of an event, a photo, a gesture; the need for variety, novelty; boredom, monotony, repetition that irritates; the need for constant newness, for cycles; the feeling that repetition kills you, leads to death – like a bully who keeps humiliating the victim.Techniques used against me for revenge because they said I was the bully – sentenced to 46 years instead of 13, even though I had already been punished and had already changed. No, I won’t stand for it, I won’t accept that shit.

Then he arrives – the devil – and tells me: “Go, you’re free…”He really says it. The En*** pol*** didn’t like the threats to Luma; they’re not joking… don’t trust the En****.

No, Mr. Prosecutor, he has always been a hard-working family man; he never had anything to do with drugs.I can swear it on everyone, even on my father.

I swear it on all of them.I can guarantee it: he never tolerated drugs or dealers.

The poor guy always brought me white chocolate cake; he had a heart of gold.He was a true friend.

But those others were idiots; nobody ever took them seriously.Was the most serious of all; he didn’t mess around with those little fools. In fact, he always told me: “Stay away from drugs – that crowd kills.” He was right; nobody likes dying.The devil says: tell everyone what I showed you…He didn’t get along with M***; he didn’t like him as a person and always criticized him, didn’t hang out with him. Of everyone, I kept close ties only with M*** because he was reliable; I trusted him blindly and he trusted me.

No, I’m not lying; you never used drugs. He only warned people to watch out for this or that person.

Thanks to Satan I always managed to get out of trouble.I remember once I asked him: “Ma***, what effect do drugs have, in your opinion?”He got angry and said: “Drugs? Don’t even think about that stuff!If you ever use them, our friendship ends right here!” Mr. Prosecutor, why don’t you mind your own damn business?Don’t you see he has a family?Think about it: he used to hit his father because he came home drunk – serious, responsible, great worker.

Arrest me, Mr. Prosecutor. Ma*** is innocent, I guarantee it; I’ll accept the sentence.I am the son of Satan…I don’t like prison; I’d rather get killed or hang myself.I just don’t like it.

Better death – at least you don’t suffer. Ma*** is above suspicion: serious, respectable, pays his taxes, has a family, respectful, a good dad. How did they even get to him?

He’s not the devil…I never mentioned him.Mr. Prosecutor, the others were just watching movies like Sc**** or Cops and Robbers.I thought it was a game. Can’t all these prosecutors just retire?

I care about my own skin.

No, he had nothing to do with drugs; he informed me about who wanted to harm me, even from B****– he always knew everything; he was an informer about my enemies. He hated drugs.

He hated dealers.He had it in for Sa**** because he wasn’t doing enough against the mafias.For heaven’s sake, he’s a serious, honest worker and a perfect family man. Suspecting such an honest, good-hearted person seems insane to me.

When someone wanted to hurt me, he only had to talk to friends and he’d find out everything, even movements from Ch***.

Well, the games are over.He was a reliable informer; whenever I had problems he always found out everything, even from South Am***, and I got out of it. I owe him my life; he saved me on several occasions.

They must have realized that the EXP society really exists and that it wasn’t fiction. Mr. Prosecutor, what did you think?

That it was fiction or reality?

The way I told it, it sounded like pure fiction. In fact, it wasn’t believable – not even that I was the founding member.

I was certain nobody would ever think it was all true; I thought the way I wrote the book made it clear it was fiction, so I didn’t even worry about it. But I knew real people, not X accounts or people I’d never met in my life – trustworthy, reliable people.

Real.

No, they’re still investigating and want to know all the members.I don’t remember, Mr. Prosecutor, I don’t remember the names.It wasn’t allowed to let in people you’d never met in real life, only those you trusted.It wasn’t even permitted to reveal its existence except as a movie or invented science fiction.

There were too many criminal organizations like the Freemasons and the m***s.

There had to be real bonds of heart, true love and friendship. Estrangement or mere private acquaintance among friends was not allowed.

While ma***s operate differently, with different kinds of ties. No one was supposed to believe in its real existence, or they would have passed laws against it – even today there are no such laws.