| "Constructing the Enemy" | |||
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On Route To London May 17, 2008, 1117 hours Lima Time He had spent his last night at Hollie's before collecting his things and departing. The farewell had not gone as easily as he had hoped; there had been tears despite his pleas, and even now he could still feel the dampness on his shoulder where her head had been only an hour before. He had explained to her why she couldn't tell anyone about him, not even mention that she had ever seen him after his death. The same went for her flatmate Lauren, although that was going to be slightly harder seeing as she wasn't aware of whom he really was. Neither did Hollie, he had reflected, but she knew enough to make it both easier and harder in the same instance. Sitting on the largely comfortable seat he found himself looking out of the window at the scenery, grateful that the woman opposite him had not attempted to strike up a conversation. Instead she worked on some or other document on an expensive-looking laptop, the type that top executives had to have to show just how important they were. Stop, he told himself in his mind. There was no point in getting himself annoyed over something as inconsequential as that when there were things far more worthy of his attention, like his demon, the `Him' who had come back to challenge him once more, believing that He would win once more. Daniel Patrick Odds. Born some time in 1990. Lived all his life in the house I've been watching. One sister, one brother. Both younger than Him. Both unimportant. Parents also unimportant. Attended local lower school, then moved to the same middle school as me. That was where I met him. Intelligent, and cocky with it. Liked to show his intellectual superiority, like he actually believed that I was a stupid as I made out. Absolutely no physical presence, though that may have changed now. It wouldn't matter anyway, he could be the size of a wrestler and it wouldn't make any difference. He was going to fall, big style. Upper school was where he learnt to scheme and connive. Fooled everyone, including me. Thought he was alright, a good mate even. Someone I could trust. Blind trust, at least I know that it was now. But I wasn't the only one, there had been others, others who had fallen foul of the same trickery that I had, only more so, at least in Dave's case. Poor bastard never knew, at least not when it mattered. How could he fool everyone so completely, so emphatically, that even when he did what he did to me none of the others even thought about changing their opinion of him? He had had them on a hook, and the metal was so far down their throats that they had no means of breaking free. He was a dangerous foe, a demon of great power, and that was where his weakness lay, for those with power always sought more, they want control over more and more, and that was how he would be trapped. All the pain and suffering he has caused, to me and to the others, will be repaid. He knows I'm coming for him, or he should. When you wrong someone like that you should expect revenge with every breath you take, never believing that you are in there clear, because that is what you are thinking, isn't it? You think you're in the clear, that I can't hurt you. Well I can. Not from beyond the grave because I never really died. I may have managed to escape from a burning building, dodged so many bullets that it almost beggars belief, and survived situations which would make even the most hardened of criminals shy away from, but you managed to hurt me so conclusively without even touching me, without even being near me. You tried to destroy me, to take what was mine and what wasn't, to humiliate me and cause me to turn from the world. You tried, and for a while you succeeded, but in the end you lost that battle, and now you will lose the war. I have been to the darkest places in my mind, places I never knew existed, places that would have killed me had I not had a reason to survive. You are that reason, because I am not going to die without first teaching you a lesson: when you do things such as you have done, you forfeit you're right to live. You are no longer classified as a human, not even an animal, for even animals have more respect for others than you do. You have managed to get this far without discovering that the world doesn't revolve around you, but soon it will become apparent that there are people in this world who are dangerous enough to make you die of fright. You may say to yourself that you will stay out of the way of such people, but unfortunately for you you have already pissed one of them off: me. He broke out of his thoughts, happy to have constructed him Demon. It was a useful exercise, something that many people in his line of business often neglected, but that was their lookout. He often found that those in the special operations groups, especially the American units, were often far less intelligent than they thought they were. He had seen it time and time again, the gun-totting commandoes who thought that they were indestructible. He remembered one mission, one that was known only to himself, Sergei, and Grigory Romanovich Krivenko, where they had taken out a group of fanatic special operations soldiers who were planning on stealing a nuclear missile from a Russian base. The Americans had stormed the base with large, powerful guns, spewing bullets into the compound. After two minutes twelve of them lay dead on the ground, and the thirteenth was being escorted away by the base commander. Himself and Sergei had killed twelve men who thought themselves better simply because they were from America, and they had died from .22 bullets. While many Americans chose large calibre weapons, employing a 'spray-and-pray' approach to a situation, Russian operators often operated for small calibre weapons and accurately placed shot, and more often than not skill won against power. He remembered the CIA agent, 'Trouble', though he could not fathom why she had popped into his head. There was something about her, something that would put him in danger. He couldn't put his finger on it but the fact that she seemed so fragile yet she handled herself in a way that frightened him on some deep level. He had never seen someone move like that� or had he? Return |
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