An Eye for an Eye

March 7, 2012
By Gunther Hunter BRONZE, Alamosa, Colorado
Gunther Hunter BRONZE, Alamosa, Colorado
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

It’s been so long. I have become accustomed to life with out sight, but I’ve become cold and angry. The man that robbed me of my eyes has escaped justice for far too long. But tonight I will have my vengeance.

The pool hall is full of a smoky smell. The patrons are quite and subdued. They stay a way from me. Legally I’m not supposed to be in here but the man is here. I can smell him. He’s here with a date. I hope he really likes her, so as I’m working he’ll think of her and think of the family he might have had. I hear him laugh. It’s full of humor and warmth, so unlike the one the squirmed through his mouth as he blinded me. The sound of chairs scraping the floor and exchange of good-byes signal them leaving. This will be my only chance. I grab my cane and start towards the sound of the door opening and closing

I stopped on the sidewalk. Even though I lack sight I knew just where to go. I strode to my right where I knew I would find my prey. I walked over to a metal pole sticking through the ground. I stop after about 10 steps and hear a lighter getting flicked.

“Can I help you buddy?” He says.

“You sure can.” He starts to answer as I turn the handle on my cane, activating the tazer, and swing at him. From the solid thump and the lack of moaning on the ground means I made perfect connection with his skull. This is good. I reach down and grab is jacket and start tugging him to my secret place. My retribution will swift and delectable.

From what the land lord told me about the room it is pretty barren. The walls are supposedly gray and there is no carpet. It doesn’t matter, I’m renting the room as a room of agony. The only furnishings I’ve brought in is a modified dinner table and a smaller adjustable table. The dinner table has been modified with restraints to keep him from thrashing around. These have been properly secured and tightened down, he won’t be moving any time soon. I hear muffled sounds as he begins to wake up. This is very entertaining. I take the rag from out of his mouth.

“What the hell is going on?” he immediately asks.

“Your in the room you will die in” I tell him as I grab a knife off the table and slash across his arm.

“Why are you doing this? I have a family.” He says through clenched teeth. Is resistance is admirable.

“ No you don’t. Your wife left you and your son hates you from the very bottom of his soul. You have no idea what pain you‘ve caused him.” He has nothing to say to that so I grab the butcher knife on the table. I test the sharpness of the blade. The pain in my finger tip shows that it is sharper than most surgical tools.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to cut your eyes open. In my favorite clown’s words I’m gonna cut them open like gifts. Tiny, little, blood filled gifts.” I pulled off the blind fold and raised the knife.

“Now father, this will be the end.” I ready my arm to bring down the knife as the door bursts open. The heaving thudding of boots come crashing in. Suddenly the room felt full of people. I knew I was caught so I started bringing the knife down. About half way down, I felt something like being punched in the chest. The force knocked me down to the ground. I couldn’t stand up and a warmth was spreading across my chest. Slowly I started to slip away. The last thought that crossed my mind was that I wasn’t going to see the darkness come take me away

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