Hell-Bent 2/2

His thoughts were interrupted by the rattling sound of the jailer’s truncheon run across the cell bars.

‘Whom are you planning to kill now John? You lousy freakin’ bastard’

The prickly comment made him feel nothing.

His heart was stone now. And his world, cold.

It was funny to hear his own words being used to accuse him.

And they took him back to where he left off. The persistent pounding.

It went on for an hour, which, he swore, still wasn’t satisfying.

Eventually, the victim had succumbed to his injuries.

‘The Victim’, they’d called him.

But John would beg to differ.

He would never in a million years forget, the night that his daughter came home crying.

Neither would he forget the week after, when he saw her hanging from the ceiling.

He felt the world pause. And then start to crumble.

An ominous silence loomed over his life, which had now lost its meaning.

But not a tear was let out. He chose not to.

For all his anger would vent out only through the fight.

He lived to see his end. He was hell-bent.


Hell-Bent 1/2

He imagined strangling him.

“I’ll kill you, you lousy freakin’ bastard!”

His mind was re-iterating the horror. Every moment of it, bit by bit.

But that wasn’t all bad for him. For those memories were bitter-sweet.

Horrific as it may be, it wasn’t haunting him.

He liked the sound of the poor guy’s knuckles crack when he crushed his hand under his boot.

The barbarity of the act invigorated his spirit. Fueling raw anger.

One would think that he wasn’t in his senses when he was doing it. But John, very much, was.

He enjoyed every punch. Every smack on the face. Each one more vigorous than the one before.

The wretched guy suffered merciless blows. He had no escape.

He would’ve tried. But a part of him didn’t let him.

‘Let me Go!’, he screamed.

Mustering enough energy to plead for his life.

But John kept pounding him to death, bashing his skull as he lay crippled in a pool of blood.

‘Let me go, Please!’, he mumbled now.

But he kept on with it. He chose to.

He’d live to see his end. He was hell-bent.