Vengeance
by Lawrence Wang
It pumps through his veins, a viscous liquid turgid with passion. It courses through his body, a liquid fire that scourges his insides, inflaming them with unnatural strength. His eyes burn alight with a dark purpose. Deep inside him a demon chants rhythmically, Vengeance, Vengeance.
He does not see the cowering mugger, stumbling against the warehouse door. He sees a dark alleyway, years ago. A family is making it's way from the cinema. A man in a nice suit and hat, a woman in a white coat with a pearl necklace, and between them a little boy with the bright look of youth. Then. A shadow detaches from the wall. A man swathed in black, demanding money, riches, everything. The thief reaches for the A bright flash. Another. Two sharp reports echo around the brick walls.
Bloodstained bodies fall, marionettes with their strings cut. They hit the ground and do not speak, do not breathe. The boy falls on his knees, his mind shattered with the moment. The thief takes a look at the boy's eyes (mirrors to the soul) and sees...nothing. He flees into the darkness with his blood money. And the boy is left alone with a broken heart.
He looks up. There are sirens approaching, the enforcers of justice arriving too late. Drip, drip. Bloody drops drip down from bloodstained fists. The mugger is an unconscious wreck, mangled, bruised, not yet dead. A scream echoes somewhere. He smiles ferally. His work is not done.
The law-men find the mugger and try not to gag at the horrific injuries done to him. They hear a flapping of wings and look up. A shadow of a bat passes over them and is gone. They shiver.
It is HIS justice being done tonight.
It pumps through his veins, a viscous liquid turgid with passion. It courses through his body, a liquid fire that scourges his insides, inflaming them with unnatural strength. His eyes burn alight with a dark purpose. Deep inside him a demon chants rhythmically, Vengeance, Vengeance.
He does not see the cowering mugger, stumbling against the warehouse door. He sees a dark alleyway, years ago. A family is making it's way from the cinema. A man in a nice suit and hat, a woman in a white coat with a pearl necklace, and between them a little boy with the bright look of youth. Then. A shadow detaches from the wall. A man swathed in black, demanding money, riches, everything. The thief reaches for the A bright flash. Another. Two sharp reports echo around the brick walls.
Bloodstained bodies fall, marionettes with their strings cut. They hit the ground and do not speak, do not breathe. The boy falls on his knees, his mind shattered with the moment. The thief takes a look at the boy's eyes (mirrors to the soul) and sees...nothing. He flees into the darkness with his blood money. And the boy is left alone with a broken heart.
He looks up. There are sirens approaching, the enforcers of justice arriving too late. Drip, drip. Bloody drops drip down from bloodstained fists. The mugger is an unconscious wreck, mangled, bruised, not yet dead. A scream echoes somewhere. He smiles ferally. His work is not done.
The law-men find the mugger and try not to gag at the horrific injuries done to him. They hear a flapping of wings and look up. A shadow of a bat passes over them and is gone. They shiver.
It is HIS justice being done tonight.
posted by Lawrence Wang | Friday, June 24, 2005
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