Revenge

       Nothing could compare to the power that came from making a life-or-death decision. Or the destain that one felt having to make that decision. Never in his sixteen-year-long life did he think that one day, he would be taking a life. The action was contradictory to his loving and helpful nature. At that moment, the hatred that resided in his heart was nothing like he had ever felt. But some monsters deserve to be eradicated.

       Logan’s anger-ridden body stared at his victim from the closet. The victim that brought terror and anguish to someone he loved dearly. Someone who was his world. She was so scared. Scared of him, scared of life, scared of everything. 

       Logan recalled talking her down from the edge that she had reached multiple times before. He couldn’t let her do it. He wouldn’t let her do it. She was all he had, and him, her. In an orphanage so large and filled with many children, it was strange that they were so lonely. But the trauma inflicted upon them every day paved a path for such isolation.

       Of all the things they had endured, this was the worst. But what brought him to his breaking point was the recurrence. Every night at seven o’clock, they would come for her and she wouldn’t return until midnight. Soreness rippled through her young body, tear-stained streaks on her cheeks. As she sobbed in his arms, there were no more tears left to cry, her body void of fluids.

       Every night she came back worse than the night before and every night she grew more anxious. She never once told him what they did to her. She never told him who did it to her, She never expressed her agony either. The only thing she spoke of when she got back, was her intense, unending desire to no longer go on. He never knew what happened to her. That was until last night when he followed them.

       In the shadows, he hid, as they led her down the hall and up to the stairs to the caretaker’s suite. When he came upon the large wooden door, the woman who led his friend there knocked three times. They turned away and left her in front of the door. A few seconds later, the door opened and light flooded into the darkness. With the light came manly laughter and moans and feminine screams and cries. Sarah lowered her head as one of the many men forcefully pulled her into the room. Hearing the click of the lock, Logan’s feet developed a mind of their own as they speedily led him to the door. 

       Dropping to his knees, he placed his eye on the keyhole, frantically searching the room for his friend. When his eyes finally found her, he couldn’t help ghastly staring at the sight before him. Gasping, his heart sank to his stomach. He watched as several male caretakers took advantage of the teenage girls he came to know as sisters. 

       Shaking violently, his mind raced, searching for an appropriate response. But the only response he got were painful gasps and teary eyes. The only emotion he felt was unbearable anger. Tearing himself away from the keyhole, he made his way back to his bed, huffing and puffing as tears raced down his face.

       Early the following day, he went to the security pit and after several attempts, he carefully took a pistol from one of the officers. He hid it in his clothing and that night, before the caretaker’s play time, he snuck into the room and hid in the closet. Once again, he watched the ungodly event that unfolded before him. 

       As the last of the girls left the room, he emerged from the closet, bullets spraying wildly at the perverted rapists. Satisfying painful cries rang out into the night. He had injured a good few but killed none. He was saving that for the one who seemed to favour his friend over the rest. The husband of the caretaker who brought Sarah to the door. 

       Standing over his wounded prey, he aimed at the rapist’s head. His fingers trembled above the trigger. He could hear the footsteps racing up the stairs and as the door burst open, terrified screams threatened to deafen him. Turning to the wife, his finger still trembling above the trigger. “I’m so sorry.” he whispered before turning back to his prey, steadying his fingers, “but he must die.”

       Pulling the trigger, he took the life of the monster. No longer would he be the source of Sarah’s pain.