Skye Maelstrom Faust
You represent the end of everything to me. All that I hold sacred, you
consider all nonsense. My faith and works are scorned at as if they
have contributed nothing to this sad existence on Earth. You are my
sworn enemy who once was my brother by blood oath.
We were alike in so many respects. We shared the same sense of humour and the same sense of duty and honour. Our mannerisms and habits were similar, too. We even look alike.
But our one difference is too great too overcome.
It has transcended all values of life and death. It cries out from the closest and farthest reaches. It cries for vengeance. It cries out for blood. It screams to be recognized.
And the voice will not be silent.
All these years that voice has been entertained.
No, it has become us. We are that voice crying out for revenge.
We have become what we once swore to fight. Uphold justice and the law. It has made fools of us both. We have failed a high challenge. Every god in heaven and hell is laughing at the black humour that we have become.
But still we chase each other, wanting what might have been, blindly following a trail laid out by the mad.
We have centered our lives around that which we hate.
And forgotten ourselves.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story is a copyright of Skye
Maelstrom Faust (Michael Woods), 1998. All rights reserved.