“You killed my sister!” The dark lake in my head begins to boil. I hear rustles behind me, leathery wet sounds and I whirl. The freaks that killed my sister are taking advantage of the distraction and trying to leave.
Not a chance in hell. This is what I’ve been living for. This moment. My revenge. First the ones that killed her. Then the one who delivered her to them.
I lunge for them, screaming my sister’s name.
I slice and rip and tear.
I begin with my spear and end with my bare hands.
I fall on them like the beast-form of Barrons. My sister died in an alley with these monsters working on her and now I know it wasn’t fast. I can see her, white-lipped with pain, knowing she’s going to die, scratching a clue into the pavement. Hoping I’ll come, afraid I’ll come. Believing I could succeed where she failed. God, I miss her! Hatred consumes me. I devolve into vengeance, I embrace it, I become it.
When I finish there are no pieces larger than my fist.
I’m shaking, gasping, covered with bits of flesh and gray matter from smashing their skulls.
I double over and hit the pavement, puking. I puke until I dry-heave then I dry-heave until my ears ring and my eyes are stinging.
I don’t have to look behind me to know the street is empty. My sister’s murderer is gone.
I finally got what I came to Dublin for.
I know who killed my sister.
I curl in a tight ball on the cold pavement and cry.