The night the Rhymer went whack

51

Truth is the one thing that exceeds all. Good, evil—whatever; it’s reality and real can never be changed. With truth comes respect and dignity.

“It’s been a while,” said Straffe to his old friend, feeling somehow responsible but yet appreciative because without Reshod’s reckless ways, there’d be no here.

“Too long,” Reshod responded, genuinely enjoying the embrace. Straffe shrouded him in a blanket and guided him inside, upstairs and invited Reshod toward his master suite all while probing eyes witnessed this known killer enter the compound. He signaled Reshod toward his bathroom while he readied some tea. In silence, they finally sat and in silence, Straffe poured and in silence, they sipped. “Why?” A twenty year old question finally asked and although Reshod had suppressed his anger to gain entrance, it had truly transformed into sincerity as he wanted and needed closure. He didn’t hate his mentor, he just didn’t understand.

“Power,” responded Straffe. “Power and entitlement. I had it all,” he continued, spoken with certitude, confidence and humility. “I am who I am,” he added, knowing Reshod could relate. Again, they continued in silence, sipping, staring out the window, napping and just enjoying being in each other’s presence once more. They sincerely loved one another, and they needed each other.

At dinner, Reshod finally spoke. “Thanks for saving us,” he graced, before enjoying another forkful of his meal.

“You’re welcome,” responded Straffe. Pleased.

He was worn, beaten, tired and not truly satisfied with Straffe’s reasoning. He tossed and turned that night, undecided as to his next move for closure. Yet, for the first time in years, he felt safe and secure. He finally relaxed into a deep sleep and upon awakening, sat up and stared out the window seeing, in the distance, the perpetual destruction while he himself was surrounded by peace. He smiled, deciding to stay, deciding to bury the hatchet with his old mentor and live happily ever after. And Straffe welcomed him and introduced him to the others. The mystery man who would reward them all with wondrous flowers was now being accepted as one of their own. It was known that he was a vicious killer but if Straffe accepted him, so would they.

He grew more acclimated and began enjoying the surroundings and loving company. Being a nomad who scouted and killed all his adult life, he never really had a home. This felt as close to that comfort he had when he was a small child before The Great War. At his core he was a murderer though he did feel his desires diminish as the community’s acceptance seeped into his heart. But, his soul of existence just needed a trigger to reset back to its true nature.

***

Sharissa was napping when Straffe entered with a bouquet of flowers. Reshod, working nearby, observed this. Knowing her relationship with Dashet, he curiously snuck closer and peered into her window. He watched Straffe snakingly undress and enter her bed. She startled awake, surprising Straffe as he quickly began to choke her. He continued the pressure until she passed out. Not dead, just unconscious enough to be violated. Enraged with flashbacks, Reshod burst through the door and pounced upon Straffe, getting the best of him until he heard the barking. Not wanting to get torn limb from limb, he retreated swiftly and escaped.

Once free and secure, still fuming, he seeped from the compound and summoned all of his deadly companions, his killers and anyone who resentfully desired to enter the compound. Destruction was now his motivation and he commenced his devastation. All while Straffe and Sharissa escaped.