Justice

You can't escape from me; I've pinned you to the floor. I'm not sorry that my hand's squeezing your throat. You'll understand if I don't care what you try to say; nothing will come from your mouth but choking and spluttered words. Those arms and legs moving in vain, they entertain me in how desperate and determined people can really be when faced with something that threatens them.

            You're wondering about my eyes, aren't you? How the pupils are slit, like a cat's. They're natural, you know, I can assure you. My teeth, my sharp teeth, they're normal, too. The same goes for my claws, which can draw blood from your throat if I dig into it.

            I love your eyes, how blue and shiny they are, so very attractive, alluring, they might as well be sapphires. So pretty. Your fear glows off of them. Everything about you right now is evident from your eyes; you're wondering if I'm going to kill you - but how? Slash your throat? You'll die shortly, choking and gasping for air as you're covered in blood. Stab you in the eyes? The last thing you'll see are my fingers about to blind you, and feel the agony as they drive into your brain while you thrash about in your final moments. Snap your neck? That's easy - one quick turn, less than 45 degrees with enough force, fifty percent chance you'll die instantly, another fifty says you'll spend the rest of your life paralysed. I could do all three for the sake of it, and no one will care that you die.

            I know what you're thinking - what sort of monster am I? You'd be wrong in thinking I'm any kind of inhuman terror you and your people could muster from your minds. What I am is an agent of Karma, a being working for the Creator of the Great Eternal Kingdom. I was once something unforgiveable, shunned from my Creator, but now I have earned my place dispensing justice for sinners such as yourself. No, I am not a demon, not a foul creature plucked from the worst of human misery. That, if you have any decency to not be blinded by your sins, is what you are.

            Again, the fear sparkling from you. This must be the first time you're terrified for your life, properly scared shitless. I would say this is how that little girl felt when you stole her from her parents; I would say that this is similar to all those things you did to her with no remorse; I would say it's akin to how she and her family felt when they cried over how your disgusting pleasures robbed her of her innocence; I would say it's exactly how that family felt when you walked out of court free, smug with yourself that could do the same thing over and over again.

            Except it's not like any of those things. What's happening right now is just a small fraction, an incredibly tiny fraction, of the feelings of those you hurt so much. I intend to rectify that - your experience with me and the pain that comes with it will expand a hundredfold, a thousandfold, worse than what that girl felt, until finally you will feel so violated, so disgusted, so weak that you will wish to curl up and die. Your punishment; destiny; final moments; conviction; call it whatever you will.

            I am Cain - the reward for your sins.