Infinite Capacity

Storms

I'm at a loss for words. Ten years. I've been running from this bastard for ten years and here he is; asking me to swear my allegiance like I owed it to him.

"More than half of my life," my voice started off shaky and tears once again threatened to spill onto my face, "Royce, more than half my life I've been running from you. Watching helplessly as you stole everyone and everything away from me. My home, my family; hell, you even stole my memories you bastard!"

"Then you know well that I always; always get what I want. And you also know what happens to those who deny me." His voice was arctic, his manner deceivingly calm.

But his coercions had the opposite effect to the one he intended. He unknowingly gave me something to fight for. Vengeance. The satisfaction of seeing him suffer as I did; for every second of his immortal life.

"You can try." I spat with determined heat.

Thunder crackled and lightning cast eerie shadows across the street. The rampant storm within his eyes mirrored by the sudden change in atmosphere. Wind tugged at my beanie and snatched it off my head freeing my uncombed, chestnut locks. My hair whipped around wildly, blocking my vision.

I barely heard him over howling winds "You have seen nothing of real torment yet, Emlyn Ritchie. I have not allowed it."

What?

Frantically, I pushed my hair out of my face. Whipping from one direction to the next in a futile effort to find him but he seemed to have disappeared.
I need answers. What was that supposed to mean? 'I have not allowed it.' What could be worse than a nine-year-old coming home to an empty house, blood dripping down the stairs, splattered across every wall, soaking into every inch of carpet? Scraps of cloth, knives, splinters of wood and glass shards scattered throughout your family home. What could be worse than begging the police to come to your house, telling them repeatedly that everyone you care about is gone, your home is a crime scene... and having them hang up on you? What could be worse than fending for yourself, day after day for ten years running from an immortal maniac? Worse than never being able to stay in one place for long fearing that your family's killer may find you too, that he may kill you and everyone you encountered? He had certainly threatened to do so. How DARE he? His sole purpose for the past decade has been to deliver me a living hell. He has tormented me to no end, leaving me no chance of escape; not even death.

No. No! I have had enough of him. The preposterous, manipulative, f*****.

My legs gave way, no longer able to hold my weight and I hit the pavement, crumbling into a sorrowful heap. Sobs wrecking my body making it difficult to breathe and my hair sticking to my wet cheeks.

No time for your pity party, get up. You have revenge plans to plot. You are strong, Emlyn Ritchie. Be strong for the few memories of your beloved family you still have. Concentrate on the anger, the hatred. Draw strength from it all, he will suffer. For better or for worse Royce Ealdian will no longer be a name you fear.

I steeled my eyes, pouring every ounce of hatred into them as I glared at the spot Royce had stood a few minutes prior. I dully noted that the storm had disappeared without a trace just as it had appeared without warning. Taking a deep breath; I sighed. I'm going to be late for the fights now. Once again I began walking towards the east end, giving a little chuckle.

Yet another reason to try to kill the pompous bastard.

***
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