Sooner or Later

I was out of the medical prison.

There were stirrings within me to help more. The end was clear, but the means were still mere germs of thought. I had to choose my method. Would it be a violent one, or a more passive one. This is where I faced months of inaction, just trying to convince myself that violence against those who practiced it, wasn't only required, but even justifiable. You couldn't reason with monsters. But you could make them fear you, and for that I had to use violence, and perhaps even kill. Kill in a cold blooded and extensively well planned manner. 

The fact that I was able to convince myself of this reality was unnerving, but I convinced myself that it was required. But I granted my conscience one concession. Kill only in grave circumstances.

I set about gathering my tools. I hated making a scene, and since I would definitely be working alone, stealth would have to be my friend. And for that I had to train.

This is where the story would get dull, so I should skip it.

3

3 months. 3 months I served for my valour. Not jail, but I was restricted. My naivete could not comprehend my situation. Why was I being punished for what I did? It was morally right what I did.

I was right. But I was the one punished. Why must I be the one paying the price for someone else's folly?

But, she thanked me. And in a wired way, that's when it hit me. That's why it was worth it. That's why it made sense.

Let me take you back to the start.

Every story has an incidence behind it. Something that starts it. The causation, the spark. In my case it wasn't a pretty site. Disgusting to be honest, the most vile, the most gross. A causation that showed how base humanity could be, if you can call it that.

And how unflinchingly mute the rest of us could be. Impotent, as if the whole majority was nothing but a colony of ants, and the ones we were scared of, though completely outnumbered by the week masses, appeared to us, to be monsters. Something that could not be defeated. And if we were to raise our heads, our heads would be dispatched from our quivering bodies.

And that moment when I saw, I dared raise my head. I didn't think much of it. I was too part of that monstorisity, so to speak. Power, money and shear wealth, the kind the colony of ants would never rise against. I was untouchable, I truly believed that.

I raised by head against the monsters pillaging the naivety and feeding on the apparent impunity of a woman out after some absurd sort of curfew. She was merely paying the rightful price, everybody thought. The colony merely looked upon the monsters with a frightening and absurd dormancy. As if comatose. I didn't  belong in the pathetic colony. I was a monster, and only monsters can defeat monsters.

I didn't succeed entirely, I did save her, but the horde had taken vengeance on me. Their anger satiated by showing their justice on me. Leaving my face disfigured, a mash-up of the consequences of the rage of their fists. I was broken, but not destroyed. 

I had saved one. But she was only one.

And that was the start. Simply put.

From Darkness

Everyone has a price to pay. And a price to pay for everything.

My price was everything. But I didn't mind. I always knew the stakes would be high, I always knew what I was signing up for. That didn't matter. But it never occurred to me that I would have to loose this too. No it wasn't about some girl. I don't think I'm such a dreadful cliche. 

It was my credibility, my reputation. I never thought that would get attacked, always thought I would sail through everything with my name intact.

I had reached a new level of naivety.