A Braveheart’s Archenemy

<script async src=”//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js“></script>
<!– taw-responsive –>
<ins class=”adsbygoogle”
     style=”display:block”
     data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″
     data-ad-slot=”1428227755
     data-ad-format=”auto”></ins>
<script>
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
</script>

In this whole wide world, there wasn’t a person I hated more than James Morgenstern.

 

He was the reason I was on the edge all the darn time, he was the reason I never slept without a weapon under my pillow.

 

I lived to kill that man and I was sure that if I were to die someday, it would all be because of him.

 

Every time I looked in the mirror, it reminded me of my vengeance, for which I was wholeheartedly thankful, nonetheless.

 

I liked being alert. James made me alert.

 

Hating him was like the quivering of my otherwise cold heart; it kept me alive.

 

The last time I ran into him, he was hidden in a closet, begging me for mercy. It was only a few months back… I had never seen him so scared, had I? I aimed my gun at him, relishing the sight of the old brat! I fired – once, twice, thrice… He laughed – blood gurgling out of his pitiful mouth – before convulsing to his end.

<script async src=”//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js“></script>
<!– taw_display2 –>
<ins class=”adsbygoogle”
     style=”display:block”
     data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″
     data-ad-slot=”7509420951
     data-ad-format=”auto”></ins>
<script>
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
</script>

But this morning, I saw him again.

 

I saw him crouching behind a tree, his face covered in sweat, his forehead adorned with more wrinkles than he’d have liked.

 

I smiled, and aimed my gun at him and fired – he laughed, and died, once again.

 

Stepping back to look at my handiwork, I grinned.

 

I had defeated James Morgenstern yet again… my alias… my archenemy… my fear… me.

 

While it might look a bit too dramatic for common folks out there – I mean, how many people have a name for the embodiment of their fear – it was what I needed. James Morgenstern kept me alive.

 

It was all my life’s worth to keep defeating James Morgenstern.

 

I lived to defeat him.

 

Again and again.

 

A secret agent must always defeat his fear.

 


Image Source


<script src=”//pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js” async=””></script>
 <ins class=”adsbygoogle” style=”display: block;” data-ad-format=”autorelaxed” data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″ data-ad-slot=”1246221352“></ins>
<script>// <![CDATA[
     (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
// ]]></script>

 

 

Share With Friends