The Reaper

Chapter 12: Tears of Blood

All of the older kids who dunked my head the other day are hanging out in the corner of the square. They are all socializing and laughing like it's just another day for them. It's as if they don't remember what they did to me. I look straight at them in the distance with overwhelming rage and resentment. So far, they haven't even noticed I'm looking at them. Maybe they might have already noticed me but they just don't care. Some have already made glimpsed eye contact. They might think I won't do anything about it, thinking they have an advantage over me. I'll show them they don't.

I begin walking towards them at a normal pace. I see John amongst them smiling and laughing with the group. He can't notice me walking up behind him with his back turned. I take my right hand inside my gown, drawing out the knife in a forward grip. Once behind John, I stab him in the side of his neck. Blood is pouring out on either side. He collapses to his knees, grabbing his neck. I push him to the ground, get on top of him, and start stabbing the knife into his face! I keep stabbing and stabbing like an animalistic urge to keep going!

"GAGH – GAGH – GAGH – GAGH!"

I stop the moment the blade hits the ground. I stand above the body, looking straight down at the remains of John's face. I breathe heavily through my teeth, growling hard like an animal.

"Daryl? Daryl?"

"Daryl," I look up at Master and realize I fell deep into my imagination midway through our training. "You're terribly distracted today – and a lot more tense than before. Are the kids giving you a hard time again?'

"No," I remove the gloves and throw them in the corner. "I'm frustrated."

"Frustrated for what?"

I pause to gather my thoughts, figuring out what to say without mentioning what happened, but then it hit me. "All my life, people had often wronged me in the worst kind of ways. And, every single time, I never got the justice I deserved. It's as if this world is allowing all of these scums to do whatever the hell it is they want, and they never have to worry about the consequences."

"So, you're frustrated because this world is filled with injustice." Master removes his gloves and tosses them amongst the pile. "Let me tell you something, Daryl. The nature of our free will allows us to choose who we want to be: good or bad. Every one of us has them both but we decide who we want to be more than the other. Through the long lines of human history, many people have chosen to do unspeakable things. The wars, the genocide, the corruption, the greed. You might be wondering why God would let them happen. It's so that when they pass on, they'll be punished for all eternity."

"Hell," I state.

"That's right. Hell. There's always a consequence to our actions after all – including good actions."

I react to a great degree of confusion. "So, you get punished for even doing something good?"

"I'll elaborate. Let's say you go after those who killed your family. Instead of getting revenge, you get justice by turning them over to the authorities. That's less bad guys in the streets harming. And they're being punished by both living and dead. So, you see, Daryl, there are positive and negative consequences. And these consequences guide us on what we should and should not do. That's the beauty of free will. If we're smart, we'd fight against the evils, to bring order in the chaos and reduce our savagery. Sadly, though, it's not enough. Even those who bring order end up being seduced by evil."

"Which is exactly why I think justice is a complete joke – and that is exactly why I'm thinking revenge is so much more preferred...So much more satisfying."