Kingsman: The Devil's Gamble

Chapter Ten

That's why they give up and surrender under a power greater than them.

You see, the thing about heroes is that—they always do what's right, even if the pressures of evil power are struggling to break them down and failing to make them surrender. They don't give up until there is widespread peace and order across a given region or the world, for that matter. But they keep their struggles and loss of hope concealed from those who believe in them. They have this added pressure of bringing hope to the innocent and not failing them, so they keep the struggles concealed so that the innocent don't express concern or worry over a second coming.

A second coming of untimely death and ruin.

But I don't consider myself a hero, by any means. Despite what others may think, I'm most certainly not a hero. I'm simply someone who's concerned about the safety and future of the world. I want to be able to have a safe, secure future, and I'm sure other innocent lives around the world would agree with me. That's why I feel pressured—or obligated—to team up with Whiskey and stop Balor. He's a very dangerous individual, one that is considered the Devil personified.

And if we don't stop him, then he'll bring the world to a ball of flaming ash. A real-life iteration of Hell itself.

I don't want that to happen, mainly because it's such a cruel, inhumane idea to have. How could one have such a dark thought like that one? I certainly can't fathom having such an idea, and it goes to show how twisted one can become and the consequences from such.

So in all seriousness, I'm not a hero. I'm just someone who feels the need to protect herself and those who are innocent. Heroes simply stop the villain to get a traditional storybook ending and keep saving the world as part of their way-of-life. Not me! I just want to save the world once and guarantee the safety of everyone for as long as they shall live.

"Rocky?" I heard Whiskey's voice call out. "Rocky. Earth to Rocky!"

I snapped back into reality once he called that out. "What? Oh! I'm so sorry, Whiskey. I'm so sorry."

"For what? Doing something harmless?" he questioned. "Rocky, I ain't gonna light a fire up your ass because you did somethin' completely harmless. Spacing out is harmless. Actually, I know that spacing out is a major sign of anxiety. But I ain't gonna light a fire up your ass because you did somethin' harmless."

"You ain't mad?" I asked.

"Why in the hell would I be mad at you, sugar?" he responded.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's the anxiety-riddle part of me. I'm not sure."

He patted my shoulder and smiled, showing that he accepted me for who I was, even though I may have several flaws to my name. "That's okay, sugar. I love you just the way you are."

God, Whiskey! Why do you have to be so goddamn irresistible? Just when I think I can put you out of my mind, you somehow waltz right back in. Damn you, Whiskey! But of course, I mean that in the best of terms. I love Whiskey so goddamn much, and I don't know what I'd do without him. He came into my life so unexpectedly, and I thank God every day that he did.

Without him, I'd be digging myself a deeper hole than I'm already in.

"Now, come on. Get your snow gear on," Whiskey said. "We're going skiing."

"I've never done that," I replied. "Can we also snowboard?"

Whiskey nodded. "Of course, princess."

God, he's such a sweetheart! I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't in my life. I'd tell you what. I'd probably be dead! If not for Whiskey, then I'd probably lose my mind so much that I'd wither away slowly or suddenly. Without him, I'd either become stupid enough to get myself killed or stupidly allow my demons to basically force me to kill myself. Whiskey is my life support, my rock...and without him, I wouldn't be in this world.