The unstoppable vengeance of Micheal Krux.

4. Courtroom Massacre

Chapter Four; Courtroom Massacre

Michael Krux POV

The chains felt heavier today.They marched me up the courthouse steps at 7:00 a.m. sharp.

Hundreds of protesters on both sides of the barricades: some waving American flags and screaming “Traitor!”.

Others held printed photos of the burning Phoenix with my face photoshopped onto the flames.

They went as far as throwing plastic bottles and eggs off the riot shields around me.

One hit my shoulder and burst, cold yolk sliding down the orange jumpsuit.I didn’t even flinch.Inside, the air was colder than the street.

I was taken to the same courtroom with the same smell of wax and panic, but today the gallery was standing-room only.

Every seat was taken by reporters, politicians, and people who just wanted to watch a billionaire bleed.

I was already at the defendant's table when my “family” arrived.Reginald led the parade again, black suit darker than yesterday, face harder.

Cecilia wore a black veil like a mafia widow.

Damien had upgraded to a three-piece and was live-streaming on two phones at once.

Gabriel and Layla came last.

She wore charcoal today instead of white, hair in a tight bun, no sunglasses.

Her hand rested in the crook of Gabriel’s elbow the entire walk down the aisle.They sat in the same front row.

The prosecutor, Harlan Crowe, stood the second the judge entered.

“Your Honor, the United Atlantic States requests the maximum sentence: life without parole. The defendant attempted to assassinate the President on live television in front of one hundred million viewers and he has shown zero remorse.” Harlen said.

My lawyer, some overworked public defender who looked twenty-five and terrified, stood up and spoke.

“Your Honor, my client maintains his innocence, we request bail and a full investigation into the planted evidence…”

The judge cut him off with one raised hand.“Denied. I’ve read the overnight filings. The evidence is overwhelming. Mr. Krux, you may speak before sentencing.”

Every camera zoomed to where I stood.The chains clinked loud enough for the microphones to catch.

I looked straight at the front row, first at Layla, my heart shattered a million times when I saw how her fingers were tightly laced so with Gabriel’s that the knuckles were white.

I let the silence stretch until the whole room leaned forward before I finally spoke. It was not okay that I was being framed, or that my family didn’t support me, but they were already moving on as if I am dead already.

That realization cuts the heart deeper than a chainsaw would. I spoke, calm and clear, every word slow.

“Five days ago I was the man who was going to give this country energy forever.

Tonight I’m the man you all decided to burn alive. Fine. Go ahead and burn me. But remember this moment, the way you smiled while you did it. Because I will.” I said, very aware that the people I speak to are listening to me and understand fully what I was saying.

A murmur rippled through the gallery, I lifted my head and looked around to see that Gabriel actually laughed and had a smug look.

Layla on the other hand looked down at her shoes as if inpatient for me to conclude so she could go and have a spa day to release some body tension as she would always say when collecting money for it.

I remember keeping five thousand dollars monthly just for those sections alone, thinking about it, I wonder if those sections would increase, decrease or go away entirely.

Well whatever it is. It’s not something I should worry about at the moment, because I still didn’t know what happened, what changed or what went wrong.

A few days ago if someone predicted this, I would chase the person away because of the love between my family and I.

I can still remember the white joggers she got me to match with her when we go out to play golf on the weekend. Who knew life would have a drastic turn like this?

Reginald stared straight ahead like I was speaking a foreign language, but I kept going.

“I rebuilt Krux Enterprises from a garage with a second-hand laptop. I took a three-hundred-year-old family name and made it the most powerful company on Earth. And the second the fire started, every one of you ran for the cameras to stab me while I was still warm.”I turned to the judge.

“I don’t want a trial. I don’t want bail.

I don’t want mercy. Just give me the five years you’ve already decided on. I’ll use them wisely.” I said with determination and finality in my voice.

There’s no point pleading to be out now just to be with those who had betrayed me.

The prosecutor jumped up.“Your Honor, the defendant is mocking the court!” He said causing an uproar in the court.

The judge banged the gavel once. “Silence.” He said. looked at me for a long time then he spoke, “Mr. Krux, you understand that life without parole is on the table.”I smiled.

“I understand.” He leaned forward. “Then, in light of the President’s personal request for leniency, this court sentences you to five years in Iron Glacier Penitentiary with maximum security and hard labor. No parole. No appeals. The court is adjourned.” He gave the verdict.

The gavel slammed like a gunshot.The gallery erupted. Reporters shouted more questions and concerns.

My family stood and turned their backs on me in perfect unison. Gabriel put his arm around Layla’s shoulders and guided her out and she let him.

As the marshals pulled me toward the side door, I caught one last look at Reginald.

He was already shaking hands with the prosecutor, smiling like he’d just closed a merger.

Damien leaned over the rail and spoke loud enough for my microphone to catch it.“Enjoy the ice, cousin. Don’t drop the soap.”

I stopped walking, but the marshals yanked the chains, nonetheless, I didn’t move, I looked Damien dead in the eyes.

“Tell your father the company jet is going to look real nice with my name back on the tail. See you in five years, little prince.” His smirk died.

The marshals dragged me through the door, down the hallway, past the holding cell and straight to a waiting black helicopter with no markings.

Two men in arctic gear waited inside. One of them held up a hood and said, “Time to go north, Krux. Iron Glacier doesn’t make gentle arrivals.” Pushed me and they pulled the hood over my head.

The last thing I heard was a reporter’s voice echoing down the corridor: Breaking news: ‘Michael Krux sentenced to five years in the most dangerous prison on Earth. His wife and family have already left the courthouse without comment.’

The helicopter lifted off, the wind screamed, Ice waited below and in the darkness, with the chains cutting into my wrists and the engine roaring like an animal, I made the second promise.

Five years, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-six days. I would count every single one.

And when the last second ticked down, I would walk out of that ice carrying every name that smiled today. They could keep the empire, but I was coming back for the ashes.