Rise of a Dark Hero

It takes time to build a mighty structure, but within moments, it can collapse. This applied to Blakely as he sat, in what he felt was a very long time.  

He did not sit in the way he used to.  Days ago, he would sit and meditate. Find peace within himself. Search through himself and looked for what flowed inside him. That is what he was taught on how to harness his gift. How to harness his ability for magic.

Now, he sat. He did not meditate; he quietly, pensively, thought on what happened hours ago. Anger, rage, fueled by the intense sadness he felt. Blakely could not find peace. He could no longer search within and harness.

It was a lost concept to him now. With that, he created a plan; a plan that would bring him peace. Release from his anger and guilt. Release from this jail cell.

ᵠ

The woman, a female psychiatrist, had asked him a simple question. “What do you think about mockingbirds?”

“They sing their hearts out, it’s lovely.” Blakely responded. He enjoyed birds. Being out in the wilderness, being taught by his mentor, gave him a love for nature. Mainly birds. They were always around, jovial and singing happily.

After his…incident with his former mentor, his perspective had changed. Blakely had made sure to tell the woman that. Yet, his view on birds and life had stayed the same.

“How do you feel when a bird dies?”

“A growing sadness…as is with any creature.” A feeling, something akin to foreshadowing within literature, grew in his stomach. He knew where this was going. It was such an innocent way to start a conversation, and it spiraled into darkness.

“So, when you killed those people, did you feel sadness?”

Yin and Yang. Where there is good, there is bad; it explained all of mankind in seven words. It explained him. When he had justified his reasons for killing who had killed, a person could think it was justice, with him being a vigilante. Then they hear how he felt.

“I felt happy.” Blakely said. He was happy they were off the face of the planet. That they could not continue the sins they committed. Just as his master had taught him, fight for justice no matter the cost. “They had murdered, raped, stole, did things that not even I could do. So…I killed them. Now, they can never do all their vile acts that they felt no remorse to.”

“Is that your own twisted sense of justice?” Blakely did not respond for a moment. Words wanted to fire from his mouth, tell her the atrocities he had seen and heard of. It’s not time.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” She looked at him. He could tell what she was thinking. His justice was twisted, not the way it should have been. Were people this easy to read? Did she leave herself open? Or was he wrong, truly twisted from what his mentor had taught him? 

“Did you know that your good intentions harmed others?”

“Everything harms someone one way or another. Their deaths harmed one, but helped a hundred.” In reality, he had not known that people would care. Had they had siblings? Maybe parents who had passed? But, he had said what he said without hesitation.

“Why kill them?” Blakely did not miss a beat in his answer.

“Because a jail cell shows too much mercy. Where they have sullied their reputation outside in society, within the jail, people who are just as criminal as them feel respect. Respect for killing! Rape! Thievery! Jail is too merciful. Death was the only option.”

“From what you said… that means you sully your own reputation with the murders you committed.”

“Of course.” It would all culminate into his end. His “downward spiral into insanity”, people would say, would get him killed in jail. All part of the plan.