Skye Maelstrom Faust
I am a socio-path. Everything you tell me, everything you say, becomes
a part of me. I am not a degenerate. I am no more than any other
individual, nor am I any less. I am a worthless genius. My dream
seems impossible to you. My logic is cold and hard. My dream would be
real for you. I could make you understand. Your every breath would
contribute towards an empire. Your death would give others life. Your
slavery would bring freedom. Your burning soul would save thousands.
My heroes are psychotic - they are geniuses. They drove nations to war and empires to peace. They are not unlike me. They are very much different than me. Their motives are not my motives, but we share the same will. Our dream is one and the same.
But you do not understand. You do not care because you could not possibly understand. If I could force you to understand, you would love me and what I stand for. If I could make you see how I would do it, you would forever hate me and loathe my cause. You would love me for what I could do, but not how I would do it. But love is unconditional, is it not? It carries no ill feelings beyond that point. It goes on always.
I have been the Roman Tarquin. I have been Attila and his Huns. I was Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin. I have killed nearly a billion people on a mad quest. I have killed Christians and Jews. I have killed Muslims and Hindus. I have murdered innocent babies while they slept. I was the rapist who became father to the fatherless. I was the abuser who helped to counsel the victims. I was the doctor who healed those I had made sick.
And it continues... It always goes on. There is no such thing as a people's will or divine right. It all boils down to death. Peace comes only when the living die. Then, it is over, truly over. But still I feel no love.
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.