The Game

Photo by Awsmguy who has no interest in STEEM, used with permission.

This is the story of my life. Of my being. And maybe, just maybe, of my future. Don't turn away from me. What do you care what I appear to be, to illustrate? I am the embodiment of hope. Cause life is a whore’s feast and you're all invited.

The strategy is simple ...

You can't afford to lose, there are no second chances. The war is on. If you don't fight, if you don't win, you will die. Die and be forgotten. Just die. There are no second chances, no options. Its black and white and red all over. You will die if you don't win, you will live if you don't lose. Its as simple as that. This is a game no more, this is life. And there are no second chances.

Why do we fight? Why do we devote our miserable shit lives to a constant battle, a battle that never ends? Because there is no avoiding it. Because that is our mission. Because we must. This world does not offer many choices, you can either be ground into the dirt or emerge a victor. The latter is preferable. The former is inescapable. For some. Bless their souls.
Watch your back, babe, watch it or else. No one will watch it for you, no one will care. One stab and you're out, one slip and you're gone. It only takes a second, a split moment, for all to collapse. To go dark. For a spark of life to be extinguished.

But not for me. I am a warrior. I am a warrior and shall be supreme. No one will control my destiny but myself, not now, not ever. I will cut a blood path with my sword, through it all, dare anything stand in my way. I am the law. And I shall judge accordingly.

The actions are irreversible ...

Rebuilding the past for the future. Nice game plan, asshole. To bad it changes nothing, only creates more. Creation is grand, is it not? Such promise. Such lies. But I will try it anyway, I will give it a go and see what is born of it. Today I am a father.

Slice and dice, man. Slice and dice all the way. Its not enough, only the weak are beaten so. Its just not enough. I must train, better myself. Damn it, I must always better my sorry self. None stop. This is getting old fast. But perks are perks and I've just found a few of mine. My father. Face to face, like it always should have been. Like it could have been. Today I am a son.

The battle is won. That battle, that is. Its won and let the world rejoice, bask in our glory. Basque in their glory. Mine awaits me upon return, if fate grants it so. Who cares? I sure don't. I just want to be left alone, left to be. Impossible. There will always be a threat, my hands will always drip blood. It never washes off, no matter how hard I scrub. The blood is not my own. Today I am a devil.

The consequences are acceptable ...

The monster sleeps tonight and many nights, never to awaken again. Pride surges through my veins. Endless battles are rewarded, the winnings are gratifying. I must bury them, two torn corpses. Together, propriety dictates it so. No one will mourn their passing, plant flowers on their graves. No one will care. Is it pity I feel? No, not pity, justification. May they rest in pieces for I am whole once more.

The game is done.

© 2000-2002 originally posted on AR, relocated to GP. Original fiction.

Post inspired by #thealliance drive for quality original content

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