Noah

June 6th 2014

Considering how much of my time I'd spent working up to this moment, I was feeling oddly nervous.

You'd think that when the time comes to kill your arch-nemesis and avenge the death of your only friend you'd feel relieved or ready. But I just felt sort of nervous and unsure, like perhaps I had second doubts about killing this man. However, he'd killed thousands, and he would almost definitely kill more if he lived. He was protected from law enforcement. This was the only way to stop him.

I was trying to rationalise my anger towards this man by telling myself that it was all to help others- but really, I just wanted to see the smug fucker's brains all over a wall.

Maybe I wasn't worried about killing him so much as I was worried that it wouldn't bring me the peace and closure I desperately sought. After all, what did I have left to do after I'd killed him? If he weren't alive, then I would've given up a long time ago. I kept on going knowing that one day I would be able to do this one thing for Craig.

So, what happens after? Perhaps closure would fill the void of grief inside me- perhaps I would just realise that all of this was a distraction. Either way, I wasn't planning on backing out at this point.

I jolted when the cab pulled up to the curb outside. I came to, sitting upright and paying the driver before stepping out.

It was raining outside, but the hotel was only four paces from the curb.

I hurried inside, smiling at the man behind the front desk and heading straight for the lift as though I was just another guest. He seemed bored and tired, barely glancing up at me. Good- hopefully I could avoid all suspicion on my way in.

In an attempt to look like a normal teenager, I was wearing a pair of jeans with a 'fashionable' t-shirt and an expensive coat. It seemed to work, though, because I passed by people who seemed completely oblivious that I was there.

I waited in the lift impatiently as it slowly rose, floor by floor, until finally stopping on the fourth floor. There was a soft ping as the doors slowly opened. With a deep breath, I walked down the corridor to the room nearest the fire escape. It seemed just like the others, but I knew there were two members of the Chinese special forces and a terrorist in there.

I ran a hand nervously through my hair, then flattened it down, then shook it out again. I stood outside the door, taking a small canister out of my pocket. After another couple of calming breaths I knocked on the door.

There was a long pause. I got the impression that someone had looked at me through the peephole and they were arguing inside.

"Excuse me?" I called, trying to keep my voice even. "I think there's been a bit of a mix up-"

The door opened and a tall Chinese man in a black suit poked his head around. I didn't wait around.

Popping the pin on the gas canister, I launched it over the man's head and into the room behind him. There were startled yells from inside, and the man at the door threw himself out of the room, diving into me and pining me against the wall behind.

Before he could recover from his shock, I drove an elbow into his shoulder. Temporarily distracted, he left his guard down and I was able to strike him over the head. He staggered back, putting a hand to his head in an attempt to clear his fuzzy mind.

I went to strike another blow, but he had the advantage of size and strength. With one fluid movement, he grabbed my arm, put his other hand on my shoulder and used my own momentum to flip me onto my back.

All the air left my body as my back seared in sudden pain. Instead of giving me time to recover, he raised a foot, presumably to stomp on me. I rolled aside, wobbling as I forced myself up to my feet.