Of Fear and Fire

I have not known fear for so long. Now I just don’t know how to deal with it.
I didn’t even leave my shitty little motel today. I just sat here paralyzed. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. Just another afternoon trapped in my head. There was nothing but my memories to escape to. Nothing but old memories of a time long ago when I last felt fear like this.

I was fourteen. There was a falling out in the proxy command.  One of the handlers got a little too ambitious and rallied together a small army of 50 disgruntled proxies and left the bureaucracy with them. The superiors were not amused. But it wasn’t enough to just ruin their traitorous underling. They needed to destroy and humiliate him to ensure something like this wouldn’t happen again. So where the enemy had fifty, the overseers sent twelve to deal with them, two squads and two lone wolves.

Every other day one of my squad mates died. By the time it was over every one of them was dead. There was just me left. The doctor believed this was the root of my more serious issues. And I can’t deny that it did hurt. Not that I cared about any of them mind you. I hated them. I wanted to kill them. But they were mine to hate, hurt, and kill. No one else’s.

The point is I lost it when I lost four assholes I didn’t care about and started cutting down anything stupid enough to stand in front of me. The master himself had to show up and put me down. Moriarty, if you take my only friend from me I will burn this world to the ground just to make sure you go down with it. You will bleed.

…All that side. I’ve arrived at my marks last known location. I should probably actually do some ground work before it gets to dark.

Until then, fuck the world. I’ll kill you all.

Oh, and stay positive. You know who you are.