Revenge

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The passion for revenge is not something you are born with. When you come screaming into the daylight, all you know is fear. Fear is the first thing most people know, and for some its all they ever know. Hate, hate is different. It's something you have to learn, from hearts older and blacker than your own. Ain't easy either, if you really wanna do it right. You can't just start hating someone fromt the word go.

Before you can really, //truly// desire vengeance upon someone, you have to love them. Maybe it's your idol from high school, a beloved pastor, or a passionate lover. Doesn't really have to be anyone specifically close to you s'long as you're keen enough on them. It can't be a passing fad wither. Someone has to stamp their bootprints hard enough to your brain, and then have you volunteer to lick 'em clean.

After you love them, then comes the pain. Betrayal, violence, or something of that nature. Maybe you walk home one day and find another woman in bed with your husband, see her nail marks etched into his back. They don't like that, so they keep you inside while they figure out what to do. Threats are made, with needles and knives and other fun toys in you. Lying in a offal soaked closet, you wait to see how you'll die next. This is what fear is.

Maybe one day when they let you out, then you can learn the next piece of hatred - the fear. You don't know where they are. Will they return? Will you be safe in any friends home, or will they be targeted with you. The police might help, but they'd cut your throat with a dull razor if you so much as walk by a pay-phone. Every day is looking over a shoulder, unconsciously touching your throat. Is this the last day? Do you get to see tomorrow? Maybe answer is yes. If it is, then maybe you feel something else.

Rage. Anger more than you've ever felt before. You want to flay them, wrap their eyes and breasts on the rack and watch them pop. Break all their fingers and make them write a letter about how they're sorry for the atrocities they've committed, then choking them with it. Maybe you torture them like they did you, or be creative in your own unique fashion. Is all up to you. But know that if you think this brings you knowledge of hate, you're mistaken.

Hate is being revolted by the mere sight of this person. Hatred is seeing their foul bodies prostrate before you, coming to you for mercy, and slowly breaking them mentally, then physically. Wrap their oily, slimy bodies and break their skulls. Let the brain suffer one ignominy after the other. Heal them, tell them it's alright and that everything is over. You love them, want to forgive and forget the terrible things you did to each other. They won't decline. Smile at them, love them like a father.

Then when they're almost human again, break all their fingernails and bore lead into their ears.

It's beautifully disgusting by the end. Dripping, cracked and shattered minds begging for release. An almost bittersweet parting. They'll stare up at you with their sockets and beg for release with ripped throats, praying with the splintered stumps they used to call hands. And you will grant it to them. Sweet release, to remove the foul from the earth. This is what it means to gain vengeance.