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Griff's Revenge
I HAVE HAD ENOUGH. I honestly can't take it a moment longer, that BASTARD, sitting there, taunting me, in my own lair, IN MY OWN LAIR, throwing everything I'd worked for, months, YEARS, of hard work, of hiding, of doing my damned best not to get spotted until I struck, avoiding contact with anyone, trying SO DAMN HARD not to get close to anyone, out the bloody window, only to have that damned American shit fuck everything up for me in his moment of panic, bring the damned Paladins down on me. Damn him, I LIKE it here, in my latest lair, and now everything's royally fucked. Thanks to HIM. David, the Amazing Boy Idiot, who didn't even have the common bloody decency to realize that he'd screwed up my entire life. Months of planning, it'd taken, MONTHS, and now all for naught. That moron hadn't even realized his crimes until the punishment had come crashing through the jumpscar he'd so conveniently left IN THE MIDDLE of my goddamn lair.
And now, Roland, that damn Paladin bastard, taunting me, standing in MY LAIR, taunting me. That was the exact moment he took it one step too far. "Time to send you home to Mommy, He said mockingly. I froze, every muscle in my body taut, screaming for his immediate death. He'd killed my mum. And my dad. And he knew it, and he was using it to get to me. Bastard. THAT FUCKING BASTARD! The whole world narrowed to the small area that was Roland's face, triumphant, taunting, cruel in the knowing of how deep his seemingly casual insult had hit me, and content in that knowing. That cruel face, with the self-satisfied grin, which only widened as I realized I'd screamed, a raw, uncontrolled roar of rage, and deep, deep hatred. All the pent up emotion I'd felt since my parents had died, released in one single sound. One can only take so much. And I have had enough.
That smug look on his face. It changes into one of fear, as I Jump toward him, rage in my eyes, changes to pain as I swing the baseball bat at him with everything I've got in me. The bat hits him full on in the face. I can feel his skull crunch behind the force of the blow but I don't care. I continue, swinging the bat with all the anger, all the rage I've ever felt, as blood spatters on the walls behind him. There's blood on my face, it stings my eyes but I don't care, can't stop, even if I wanted to, but I don't. This. Is. For. My. Parents. Every blow a different word, a different sort of revenge. What used to be Roland doesn't really resemble anything that used to be even remotely human anymore, but I'm still not done exacting my revenge. I kick his body, feeling bones break and knowing that he can't feel it anyway, but feeling a sort of perverse justice at knowing he won't be hurting me anymore. Or anyone else. David's behind me, finally grabbing my arms, pulling me away from the bloodied corpse. His little girlfriend, Millie, I think, is there too, staring at me with horror, but I can't even care, until I see the blood splattered all over the walls. I feel the wetness running down my face and don't know if it's tears or blood. The hand I put to my face comes away crimson red and I realize that I'm covered in blood. His blood. And it's still warm. I stagger to a corner and throw up.
I throw up until I can't breathe any longer and nothing's coming up but I can't stop, can't stop, but then David's there, putting his hand on my back and looking at me with those kind, innocent grey eyes. Those eyes haven't seen anything like what I've seen, haven't done the things I've done. I'm almost sorry now, that I cursed at him earlier. I stagger upright, and spit at Roland's body, grotesquely mutilated, still in the corner. My mouth tastes coppery, like blood and vomit. I spit one more time, to rid myself of the taste of it, and of any and all regret for what I'd done. It'd been a long time coming, and regrets only tie you down in this life and, as a jumper, I can't afford to be tied down. Literally or figuratively.
I head toward the door. "C'mon," I motion to David, "Let's get the hell out of here." I leave my things there, in the lair, along with the body. Whoever finds them can do with them what they will. Call it a penance for past sins. I'm through living in the past. With Roland's death, my parents were avenged, my lifelong pursuer was gone, and my life was looking surprisingly good, for someone with no belongings, money, or any idea where to go next. "Where to?" David asks, still the follower, holding Millie's hand in his. "No idea," I answer cheerfully, "But that's never stopped me before." I give him a rather cheeky grin as I face the sunrise, the signal for a new day. About time for a new day in my life, I think. And then, we Jump.