this is about? You’re avenging them?” He had a slight smirk on his face.
“No.” Yes, them too, I thought. “I’m here because of the recent tragedies you have created.” Now his breathing was fast and uneven. He knew exactly what I meant. He struggled but, even though I had to adjust my grip, I was stronger than him. It felt amazing. His body was like an eggshell, and with one twist of my hand I could end his life. I felt powerful. Enough talking. It was clear what he had done, and the urge to end this was overwhelming.
I reached into my bag with my free hand and pulled out one of the two syringes that Aaron had brought for me. It was a paralytic, which I quickly injected into his vein. I felt the fight leave him and released my grip.
I stood and removed two latex gloves from the bag. I put them on, grabbed a roll of tape, and taped his eyes open. I looked down at him. “You know, John, it didn’t have to be this way. You had a choice to be something else… someone better… you had a choice.” In those words I realized that I, however, didn’t have a choice. I held the syringe in one hand, now gloved, and held my other hand up. I felt so strong… so different… changed in some way.
This is it… the resolve… this is who I am. I never asked for this. As I stood there viewing the surreal scene set in front of me, I struggled to fight the fear and the nausea… the excitement. I became acutely aware of every muscle in my body. One by one, flexing and extending as the blood pulsed hard to supply what my muscles needed to keep each one satisfied. My heart was pounding and racing… aching. A sudden chill vibrated through me as drops of sweat accumulated above my brow line. The back of my neck felt moist as a slow trickle slipped down my back. I took in a deep breath and, noticing my ragged breathing, I quickly steadied myself. I smelled the scene and the aroma of victory took me over, making me shudder as I felt the high. I could taste it on my tongue, which made my mouth water, and I had to swallow hard. I felt my saliva moving down my throat, feeling a bit cold in my overheated body, only to land in my now quivering stomach. I sighed, realizing that the nausea had finally passed.
I stood and looked at him… my victim, with contempt and just a hint of sadness. He never saw it coming. His limp body twisted into an unnatural position on the ground, still but not dead… not yet… and a smirk spread across my face.
But as the breeze of reality kissed my cheek, my face dropped just slightly with sadness. The others . . . they were right . . . I have been created for this. I closed my eyes for a moment as I felt a strange sensation. A feeling to do something, but what? Is this what they were talking about? I was drawn here and it felt right, but could I really finish it? As I took a deep breath, a sense of calm took over my body. It was at this moment that I understood who I was to be and how far I had come to get here. In front of me lay my past, present, and future.
He deserved this. His breathing was slow, shallow, clinging to life, lying motionless from the paralytic I had just injected. His eyes were wide with fear, taped open so that he could see me, see what was coming. I didn’t want him to miss a thing. I wanted him to see me doing this. I wanted him to feel the fear and pain that he had put his victims through, the pain that he would have inflicted again if he were allowed to live. Not today.
This was premeditated, I had searched him out. The syringe, still in my hand, was cold even through my latex glove, but comforting. I could almost smell the metallic taste of its contents and sighed. I walked slowly over to my bag. I retrieved the other syringe, already loaded. I checked it for air, silly, it wouldn’t matter. I knelt down next to him, looked into his eyes for a second, then spoke. “You will NEVER hurt anyone else again.” I felt his chest, his heart, beating as if I were
“No.” Yes, them too, I thought. “I’m here because of the recent tragedies you have created.” Now his breathing was fast and uneven. He knew exactly what I meant. He struggled but, even though I had to adjust my grip, I was stronger than him. It felt amazing. His body was like an eggshell, and with one twist of my hand I could end his life. I felt powerful. Enough talking. It was clear what he had done, and the urge to end this was overwhelming.
I reached into my bag with my free hand and pulled out one of the two syringes that Aaron had brought for me. It was a paralytic, which I quickly injected into his vein. I felt the fight leave him and released my grip.
I stood and removed two latex gloves from the bag. I put them on, grabbed a roll of tape, and taped his eyes open. I looked down at him. “You know, John, it didn’t have to be this way. You had a choice to be something else… someone better… you had a choice.” In those words I realized that I, however, didn’t have a choice. I held the syringe in one hand, now gloved, and held my other hand up. I felt so strong… so different… changed in some way.
This is it… the resolve… this is who I am. I never asked for this. As I stood there viewing the surreal scene set in front of me, I struggled to fight the fear and the nausea… the excitement. I became acutely aware of every muscle in my body. One by one, flexing and extending as the blood pulsed hard to supply what my muscles needed to keep each one satisfied. My heart was pounding and racing… aching. A sudden chill vibrated through me as drops of sweat accumulated above my brow line. The back of my neck felt moist as a slow trickle slipped down my back. I took in a deep breath and, noticing my ragged breathing, I quickly steadied myself. I smelled the scene and the aroma of victory took me over, making me shudder as I felt the high. I could taste it on my tongue, which made my mouth water, and I had to swallow hard. I felt my saliva moving down my throat, feeling a bit cold in my overheated body, only to land in my now quivering stomach. I sighed, realizing that the nausea had finally passed.
I stood and looked at him… my victim, with contempt and just a hint of sadness. He never saw it coming. His limp body twisted into an unnatural position on the ground, still but not dead… not yet… and a smirk spread across my face.
But as the breeze of reality kissed my cheek, my face dropped just slightly with sadness. The others . . . they were right . . . I have been created for this. I closed my eyes for a moment as I felt a strange sensation. A feeling to do something, but what? Is this what they were talking about? I was drawn here and it felt right, but could I really finish it? As I took a deep breath, a sense of calm took over my body. It was at this moment that I understood who I was to be and how far I had come to get here. In front of me lay my past, present, and future.
He deserved this. His breathing was slow, shallow, clinging to life, lying motionless from the paralytic I had just injected. His eyes were wide with fear, taped open so that he could see me, see what was coming. I didn’t want him to miss a thing. I wanted him to see me doing this. I wanted him to feel the fear and pain that he had put his victims through, the pain that he would have inflicted again if he were allowed to live. Not today.
This was premeditated, I had searched him out. The syringe, still in my hand, was cold even through my latex glove, but comforting. I could almost smell the metallic taste of its contents and sighed. I walked slowly over to my bag. I retrieved the other syringe, already loaded. I checked it for air, silly, it wouldn’t matter. I knelt down next to him, looked into his eyes for a second, then spoke. “You will NEVER hurt anyone else again.” I felt his chest, his heart, beating as if I were
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