A Collection of Short Stories

Revenge

Revenge can be a terrible thing, spreading death and destruction across nations and generations. But in the eyes of a single man, it can be a strangely beautiful thing that takes a firm grip at that dark place just behind the heart.

Carlos de Agosto was one such man who had left the overwhelming desire that is vengeance brooding. He had felt it every waking moment of the past seven years - and often in his dreams, too. It festered his soul, eating away at what remained of his salinity.

He would have revenge for his brothers death, but it would have to be well executed. And so he waited, pretending to grow close to the man he knew killed his brother.

Dante de Armando was scum in the form of a man. He was stain upon the earth that needed to be erased before it did any more damage. He was a low-life thief and drug dealer who had stabbed Antonio de Agosto for the few dollars he had in his pocket that night.

Carlos had gained Dante's admiration be discreetly tipping him off to an incoming raid, an act that had only made the dark burden he carried weigh heavier. But done he would be free of that burden. He would still carry the guilt of killing a man, but it would be a lesser weight than allowing scum like Dante to live.

It was a cold night when Carlos invited Dante in for a drink. Dark clouds obscured the stars an the moon, and a fierce breeze whistled through the streets. The swine accepted, clearly having already indulged himself.

It was a simple matter for Carlos to steal a little o the drug dealer's product as he escorted the man in. When they arrived at Carlos's manor, he offered his guest a choice if drinks.

"Whatever's strong, my friend," he replied with a slur.

"I have just the thing." Carlos fixed his guest a very dark rum, which had been ageing for quite a while, on the rocks. He added in the drugs he had stolen, and swirled the drink to displace the fine powder. Then he fixed a scotch for himself.

Dante downed half of his drinking then peered at it with a look of distaste on his face. Carlos quickly offered a toast before his guest could comment on it.

"To your continued business success," he raised his glass and the drug dealer did the same with an understanding grin.

Dante finished his drink with a tremendous gulp and then sat back in his chair looking content. Carlos said nothing, and after a moment, his guest began to fall asleep. Carlos slowly finished his drink while he waited for the drugs to tear through the mans system.

He placed his empty glass on the table and rose from his chair right as the other man began to retch in his sleep. Removing the handkerchief from his shirt pocket, Carlos covered the mans mouth l, suffocating him.

When his guest finally stopped moving, Carlos dragged him into the street and deposited the body around the corner.

Carlos de Agosto burned his handkerchief when he returned, and as the flames consumed it and the ash flew away, he felt the weight in his soul lessen.