For years I have been put down repeatedly, petrified to even set a single inch of my body outside; fearing that he is there. It began on that one innocent midnight, when I was woken up by the screams of the children; and I'd never have to be woken up again. Sleep would be a ridiculous luxury, but my memories of that day take the form of nightmares if I even fall asleep for a tenth of a second. I couldn't even scream for help, after all what could any mortal do against him? He'd killed every other family in every other place. As he witnessed the blood of children dripping from their skin; it would be his last pleasure, and he laughed intermittently like a man who'd never had a drop of sanity in that cruel, inhuman brain of his. Everyday after that night, bleak and depressing. If rage and despair could be harnessed into a blade, mine would be strong enough to consume a thousand suns; but it still wouldn't be enough. No- to destroy him, a man; no, a god would have to drain every last joule of energy from his body and pull the trigger on the gun next to his head. No one can kill him; the only escape is to forget he ever existed. You could say that's cowardly, but you'd think differently if you knew what that man was willing to do. It was all a game to him, every life adding a tenth of a point to his score. Why would he care who he made miserable? A man like that, must've never had a family; or any one he loved. I'd pity him, but my mind wouldn't allow me to emit any emotion towards that man expect pure disdain. He only hunts at night, dare any brightness enter his eyes. The only thing he feels is pure darkness, and he makes sure no one feels anything else. 13 years after that cold, cold day; I thrusted myself to the place where it all began, where cracks were cemented in the unrecognisable wooden floorboards, and the discoloured blood was stained onto every wall. I felt the feeling of utter dread coming onto me, every cell of my skin trembling; and I saw him. He approached me, each step felt like an earth-shattering blow to the ground filled with dead grass. He reached his wrinkled, diseased hands out to me; and it felt like my stomach started to consume itself. As my eyes met his dark, brooding eyes; all of the screams started repeated in my broken mind. As a single tear dripped down my dry cheek, I let it consume me. The trembling halted, my hands reached out to his. No fear in my eyes, and none in his; and we were equals. To gain the strength required to quell his wrath, you had to obliterate every spec of fear left in your body. You would feel like a monster, and for a moment you would be. But a monster with years of misery pent up inside him always wins against a monster motivated only by his madness. I released my hands, and placed them on his neck. I couldn't feel his pulse, but he was still alive; smile on his face. I clawed into his nerves, wishing his face would finally just leave my sight. Again and again, I striked him. But that damned smile would never leave his ugly, wretched face. I swiftly pulled out my blade; and stabbed him not with force, but with all of my rage imbued in the blade. Whatever life he had, left his eyes. I stood up, my hands bloodied, and stared at the dead body of the madman. I thought I would've felt happy, exacting my revenge after all of those years of torment. I smiled... I laughed..... but there was no happiness. No fulfilment. It's not like I could go to anyone, they were all dead. All gone. There was nothing. I looked in the mirror, and I couldn't discern any human feeling in my face. The dread filled my mind, and all I could see in my eyes was the same nothingness in his.
