destroying your enemies is normal. natural, even. why wouldn't you wipe out your antagonizers? smacking the toothy grins out of their dull, meaty faces that thud with a thick hollowness.
but what if..
what if Cruelty had a different face? What if it could take on any shape or form? What if it could be anybody, from the President to your next-door neighbor?
what if it looked like your mother?
what if it looked like your father?
and what if it looked like you?
They knew. They knew that our greatest weaknesses lied not in avarice or in tangibility - they knew our greatest weakness sprung from mental twining of logic and faith. There was a gap in all of us; the connection between the physical body and the intellectual brain was gathered in the effervescence of our spiritual flames, that which burned and flickered in both staunch protection and coquettish passion of the heart.
And within those flames, warmed faces spring alight, and Their greatest weapon was to be able to take on the forms of those faces.
So what if your killer took on the face of your brother? Your lover? And it was you or them. You or warm blood splattering your hands as you thrust the blade past the crunch of your lover's bones, reading the beautiful anguish of their face, twisted up into a pained expression like a crumpled flower that you crushed into your palm with rigid reluctance. Rigid reluctance!
The wild howl of survival calls.
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