Like the gathering of allies before the trenches or the throwing of deadly stones back and forth across walls, a chain of vengeance is formed. For every throat whose hand slits another, a hand will come to slit in revenge. Throat for throat builds link on link until one of two things occur to join the ends together.
Either the throat becomes too large because it is the throat of many and, like a tree, the knife will only draw sap and the wound will heal- this throat's roots quickly enveloping any and all threats, linking the chain forever.
Or one man will arrive to smite all the remaining links. A darkened hero who will almost certainly act alone.
In life, the former will invariably occur; in fiction, the latter.
Otherwise new links are forged and man after man will fall into the earth and the chain will forever continue to grow.
Thinking about this, John waits in the shadows, a knife in his pocket, his fingers about the hilt. He knows he must play, that the knife must be used for its darkest purpose.
He wonders if he can end the chain here somehow. If it weren’t for the repercussion… then what? John knows such thought is futile, any hope dumb. He is already a link in this chain, hence his position in the alleyway, part of a larger throat he hopes is large enough to survive and protect as he rises into the light, sending the knife home.
Either the throat becomes too large because it is the throat of many and, like a tree, the knife will only draw sap and the wound will heal- this throat's roots quickly enveloping any and all threats, linking the chain forever.
Or one man will arrive to smite all the remaining links. A darkened hero who will almost certainly act alone.
In life, the former will invariably occur; in fiction, the latter.
Otherwise new links are forged and man after man will fall into the earth and the chain will forever continue to grow.
Thinking about this, John waits in the shadows, a knife in his pocket, his fingers about the hilt. He knows he must play, that the knife must be used for its darkest purpose.
He wonders if he can end the chain here somehow. If it weren’t for the repercussion… then what? John knows such thought is futile, any hope dumb. He is already a link in this chain, hence his position in the alleyway, part of a larger throat he hopes is large enough to survive and protect as he rises into the light, sending the knife home.
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