Psychopath : Retaliation

 

I am the doer, I am not the done to.

 

That is the natural order of matters.

 

I see many as way beneath me. Unworthy of even being in receipt of my malice. It would be a waste of my ability and resources to apply my chaos engine to deal with them. Far better to leave them ignored, for the consignment to indifference sends its own message, leaving such individuals lost in the confusion of not being acknowledged. There are those that are desperate for recognition, even if it is beneath the heel of oppression. Yet, I leave these nobodies untouched for it is more satisfying to have the wails of their neediness in one´s ears as one leaves them floundering, than to give them the beauty of recognition. They are dismissed.

 

For others they must be taught a lesson. They will come to experience the smack of firm governance, in whatever form that may take. They will be brought to heel, chastised, disciplined and reminded of whose will they bend to. There exists a range of measures that are to be meted out to those that find themselves categorized as such. Yet, for those within this band, they serve some purpose to me. I maintain their existence for they provide me with amusement, a diversion from the lurking ennui. Crushing these individuals is always a possibility but then it snuffs out any possibility of entertainment. It is far more gratifying to cause them to engage in a gallows dance and then cut them down before they expire, allowing precious air to enter their lungs once again. That way, should I deem it necessary to teach them a lesson, they can be strung up once again and subjected to a jerking dance, face congested, eyes bulging, strangulating gasps escaping their twisted mouths and then release. Ah, sweet release from their torture, the realization of their continued existence and the receding of the pain, all by my hand, is quite the spectacle. This group simply find themselves subjected to discipline for I have use of them in my dominion.

 

For others still however it is my nation state that must bring the full weight of its might against them. There will be no quarter given to those that have caused suitable offence. For those within this grouping there will be no cessation of hostilities, no negotiated ceasefire. I will burn them to ashes and then burn the ashes. There will be no hiding place, no refuge from the incessant onslaught. Those that get in the way of my pursuit of my quarry will find themselves similarly disincetivised. You must not and will not distract from my total pursuit and annihilation of these individuals. Might it be that they could serve some use to me? No, it is beyond a question of use, they forfeited such rights a long time ago and now are branded with the mark of obliteration. The identification of such individuals has them as candidates for destruction. Every facet of their existence must be disintegrated. They must be defeated, deleted and disinfected from the face of the earth.

 

Nothing less that total hegemonic victory is acceptable in relation to these transgressors whose lives will be extinguished, whose possessions will be broken, burned and scattered to the winds like so much ash. Their connections will be severed, their memories eradicated, their homes razed, their businesses liquidated. Each and every indicator of their existence must be purged in a relentless crusade against the offender. The scale and extent of their eradication is such that the effect is to cause those that knew of them to only risk mention of them by oblique reference or frantic whisper.

 

The full arsenal will be unleased upon them, a policy of scorched earth, a complete annihilation of the enemy. It is edifying and entirely logical. There can be no seeds of resistance, no sapling of insurgency that remains. Everything must go.

 

It is only accurate to detail that this outcome is not the most common. The mobilization and expenditure of resources against such a transgressor is substantial. It must be, in order to achieve the required outcome. Accordingly, it is merited in only certain instances. It is not the default action. It is not standard operating procedure. There are lesser campaigns that are utilized against the majority which are entirely effective.

 

No, it is only in comparatively rare instances where the apocalypse will be brought to the door of my enemy and with the coming of their end, others may fall also. It is necessary and right. There can be no legacy for them.

 

All of this is planned, calculated and executed. It is not a random assault of a beserker, lashing out at whatever is closest. Far from it. It is the hyper focused application of the chaos engine, deployed with laser precision against the relevant transgressor. Maximum resource allocation to achieve the total outcome. An unleashing of targeted might that leaves nothing standing in the target area.

 

What prompts such a blitzkrieg you are doubtless contemplating? What possible act merits such a total response by my nation state against the transgressor. What craven behaviours justify such a massive, crushing, destructive force?

 

It is my retaliation.

 

Retaliation for what, I hear you query.

 

You should understand that for the very few of my ilk we apply a very particular type of retaliation.

 

I get my retaliation in first.

 

 

3 thoughts on “Psychopath : Retaliation

  1. Allison says:

    Fascinating how the thinking operates here, HG. This kind of malevolence is astonishing, and I can see that it would take much energy to wield it, to apply it with precision. How amazing to think psychopaths are in the population, that we encounter them. I’m glad to know you and that you share this world with us, that you help us understand such areas. No one else has. No one else could.

    I dreamt of you last Saturday night. It’s starting to be a pretty regular thing. I felt your presence before I could see you. I was trapped in a room with impossible angles and no doors or windows. You appeared suddenly, as every dark thing in existence, bound in manly power, in the midst of swirling shadows. Your form was visible because it was deeper and darker than the blackest black around it; I could only see your eyes because they were burning within their sockets. They pierced right through me–I felt my insides twisting– and in an instant I was out of the suffocating room and standing in a beautiful sunlit field. I’ve walked around in waking life with a mixture of joy and dread since.

    You’ve touched me.

    I’m happy we have you.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      You are welcome.

    2. Joa says:

      Allison, a bit like something out of a horror movie 🙂 A a peculiar feeling of happiness 🙂

      Only once, I dreamed about HG. The dream was pleasant, I felt safe, slightly surprised, slightly proud, and finally curious.

      I was in my house, which wasn’t my house, but it was my in the dream. The world outside was burning. Through the windows, all I could see was orange-yellow fire and a few, tiny streaks of black smoke. Nothing but fire. I knew the fire wanted to get inside, but I wasn’t afraid at all. The windows crackled, but I was sure, that both the elevation and the windows would withstand the fire. I was calm and felt safe, just looking at this fiery spectacle. I wasn’t even hot.

      Then, out of nowhere, strange people appeared and I approached them and asked them excitedly if they had seen how strong the windows were in my house, but they didn’t care, so I gave up.

      Sam Vaknin emerged from the crowd and stood in front of me. I started peeling the skin off his face, as easily as peeling a banana, as if it was the most natural action in human interaction.I only managed to tear off part of his cheek. The physiognomy and skin of the SV were only a shell hiding the HG. A hole in his cheek revealed some rather unkempt, natural stubble.I felt curious and wanted to see the rest of the face, but I woke up.

      There was no blood or pain. He stood there waiting for me to open his. He enjoyed it. I did it gently, with care and concern.

      —–

      When I woke up I felt very calm. Even though the coating belonged to SV, it was HG.

      A pleasant, slightly strange dream, that turned out to be worth remembering.

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