Thomas

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”  

  - Friedrich Nietzsche 

I looked down the cave into my own unbecoming. A grown man jumps into a dark cave in the middle of the night, no one saw him, so it didn’t happen. I didn’t see myself in there, I saw my demon. The demon I possess. 

The flood lights scared the house bats away. I took away their light. I know how to lurk in my darkness, but they don’t. Mankind truly is the most dangerous animal on this planet, and the worst among us must be eradicated. 

I punch the combination pin on the keypad. The closet reveals itself. My Deagles are sturdy and my 50 is robust, my knives are shiny and sharp, my brass knuckles are dripping of blood, my gloves are still sweaty and stink of my fingers, my boots stink of my feet, my armor still smells like my wife’s blood, my pants stink of my piss, my mask has stains of the blood of my enemies, my belt is too red for me to see the blood on it, while I reek of my own sweat, semen and bad breath of whiskey and cigarettes.

I grunt and gasp as I struggle to wear them. I need to hurry. I need to kill someone tonight. Someone far worse than me. 

My vehicle is a weapon, just like me. The Nitrous Oxide chargers ignite the engine as I bolt my way out of the cave. The weather is cold with snowfall in this pitch-black sky. I can look through the shadows people hide, the pain they hide. I don't. I go out to seek that very pain. I can even taste their cold sweat as I blaze out nothingness through 400 miles in an hour. 

I charge the blade of the hood through the door and run over a dozen men with assault rifles. The fat gluttonous murderer spots the rather large object piercing through his warehouse and starts running as he's immediately out of breath.

I shoot at his right hamstring. He collapses and gasps in pain and fear.

"Ughhhh.....wait, wait, wait......it wasn't me!"

He confirmed. It was verified.

I shoot right between his legs.

He screams in the pain of his castration.

I turned him around on his back. His left hand held a pistol pointed at my heart. I let him go. The bullet ricocheted off my armor.

I choked his neck till his face turned red.

"GIVE..ME..A..NAME"

I enquired. He obliged.

"Chill....it was Chill! Chill was an insider!.....I didn't order this killing, I swear!"

I knew he wouldn't lie to me. He too has lost a son. It would be true mercy for him to now see him for himself.

So I went back into my vehicle. and ran him over, just like the rest of them.

The rest of his goons decided to fire upon my traveling bulletproof shield. So I humored them back. Scatter missiles blew them all to hell.

I ejected my sunroof and took my 50 out. Aimed at the floodlight of the savior of this city. Shot a hole right through and plunged the smoke screen into darkness. Their savior was dead the day he was born.

My tears had dried with age. My legs ache, my back hurts, my arms are weak, my hair is white, and my blood is running thin. This is all I have. Vengeance.

I'm no hero. I'm no saint. I'm no villain. I'm not mad, either. I have now become death. I know who the victim of my hands is going to be. He must pay. My vehicle storms through the darkness.

I’ve reached the location of my victim. I lightly tap on the window. I peeked to see him side stepping into the room as he slices the Beretta around to clear the room. I wait till he leaves the room. I slide in through the window. 

My sticky feet tracked him in the darkness that he’s so distracted by. 

I punch him right on the chin. He collapses down to the floor, still conscious with his mouth bleeding and his glasses broken. Pleading me. Pleading, on his knees. 

“Thomas it wasn’t me, I swear to god, it wasn’t me”  

I punched him as he was trying to speak and mumbled half intelligibly and half gibberish on my knuckles. No amount of cleaning can wipe this blood off my hands. 

“Thomas! Please! Listen to me-” 

Mercy? I haven’t begun the torture yet. He’s already pleading for mercy. 

“Thomas! It was Os! Os set this up so you deduct that Chill was working for me! He was just an undercover! I did not authorize this! I swear on my children!” 

I grab him by the collar up to me so he can look in my eyes, up close and personal. Now he can he will hear me loud and clear. 

“Os is dead, Jim. He’s bleeding on the sidewalk. Figured you’d want to join him.” 

I unsheathed my knife and stabbed his guts out repeatedly. He died with his blood puking out of his mouth, his tears streaming as he tried to tell me something while he choking on his own blood. I drop him. 

I hear a sob and a step behind me. 

It was his daughter. Looking at me like a bat in the darkness. I drew out my Deagle and took her lights out. Her body became lifeless with a hole in her head. I didn’t realize I was crying. Mercy for the enemy isn’t tolerated. A crime is a crime and a death is a death. An eye for an eye made the whole world blind but only I saw through it. I have no function to serve anymore, no purpose to fulfill, no family to love. 

I bid my demon goodbye before blowing my own lights out.