A somewhat indulgent write, forgive its occasional rawness and lacking style
“I have lived three lifetimes, survived wars across the stars, and now I must again justify my reasons to someone who has yet to taste the true meaning of what it means to be a real hero” Joe scornfully observed, the boy sitting opposite barely out of his thirties and still with a light in his eyes, the darkened orbs that glared from Joe’s deadly expression burning the meaning of his words into the criminally naive agent across the table.
With fire and wraith rushing through his veins Harmack could only take Joe’s coldly spoken statement as an excuse, some pitiful way of explaining away the unforgivable events that just unfolded “He was just disillusioned, a misfit looking for an outlet, you didn’t have to..” the images now forever burned into his memory rendered him unable to even describe the atrocities this monster had carried out. Harmack’s volume increasing with the agitation that manifested itself in his restless manner “I could have you executed on sight for what you did, and I would relished pulling the trigger” the words delivered sounded less of a threat, more ‘verbalising his intention’.
The genetic and mental programming built into his very being maintained an appearance of calm, Joe feeling more pity than anger towards his less experienced colleague “That man knew his actions, when my blade dug into his flesh it was justified, that bullet at the end” pausing to callously sip his drink, a perfectly calm breathe “more than he deserved, considering” remorse lacking, guilt? there was no hint of anything escaping his stony features.
Harmack was trying to hold back the dark urges that drove his lust for justice, the lust with which he wanted to put this monster down, on the spot, only held back by the knowledge that he wouldn’t have been the first to try “You injected him with that serum before… it’s designed to increase the chances of survival on the battle field, but how you used it… unforgivable barely covers it” energetically rising from his chair as the torrent of rage that was Harmack’s voice shouted down upon the creature who would be lurking behind any nightmare he would ever have from this day on, Joe visible unmoved.
The thin veil between Joe’s cold-hearted calm and opposing ancient venom, so rich in pain it would put the best vintages to shame, held fast “Making that criminal feel the pain tenfold, every time I cut into him, nothing but a speck within the sphere of my career” Harmack retreated to his chair, something to do with the fact Joe had drawn his weapon and intently rested it on the table “I’ve burnt entire landscapes with weapons that are illegal just by their mere mention, killed without control over my actions for aliens that acted as a god” a sly grin introducing his next considered words “and for this planet you call, the one I so sparingly call a home I hath sacrificed it all, and you call me to order for one terrorist’s demise” his hand threateningly floating over the gun aimed towards Harmack, Joe grinned as he considered the twisted humour of his last statement.
Harmack felt something stronger than the torrential rage that rested so close to the surface, infecting his every word, that something stronger the only thing forcing him to take a calmer posture when faced by such coldness of character that Joe displayed. Harmack’s next words were cruelly constructed to get his point across, without getting a bullet for his troubles! “Who gave you the right to decide his fate, the fate of those ‘landscapes’ you’ve burned?” at last Joe’s facade showed cracks, even if those cracks revealed something more terrifying.
Continued in Part 2