Revenge's Role

John Taylor twisted and turned convulsively on his lavish bed before snapping awake and out of the nightmares that plagued him every sleeping hour. Wiping his moist forehead he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the odour of sweat that pervaded the stuffy, dark bedroom. Lifting up the single damp sheet that covered him, he warily slid out from underneath it and sat at the edge of his bed with elbows resting on knees and head clasped in both hands, shaking as if he was in some physical pain.

The nightmares that made his sleep restless and his mind mad came endlessly in an overwhelming torrent of abuse and pain, and felt harshly real. Lurid visions of hell filled with loathsome demons, and hideously deformed and emaciated figures - unscrupulous former associates akin to himself - all crammed together in a furnace as he grovelled on the broiling floor among their excrements choking on the rank, hot air. The contemptuous eyes of those far more despicable and odious creatures that trod on him stabbed deep into his own empty sockets and into the dark recesses of his sordid soul where they witnessed all his abasements and iniquities - everything from the smallest transgressions to that most vile mortal sin committed. They judged him and punished him accordingly in ways so horrendous he could not bring himself to mind them fully when awake.

Now that he was awake it was not underworld fiends that tormented him but his own conscience; guilt and shame brought about by his terrible bloody deed. Sporadic visions of it played in his head no matter how hard he tried to blank them out he; just could not accept what had happened…

Each time he relived that harrowing episode, he wished he could control and stop himself or that it had never happened but such childish wishes were futile and so each time it played to its tragic conclusion before ending abruptly. The abjection he suffered from however did not end ; it was inexorable.

Hopelessly trying to subdue these torments, he stood up and walked over to the tall, embrasured window where vivid silver, moonlight slanted into the second floor bedroom casting a rectangular spotlight upon the carpeted floor that pushed the rest of the room into impenetrable darkness. He had intended to open the window to allow a cool breeze refresh the sepulchral room but was much vexed to find it was stuck tight and would not budge despite his efforts. Finally, exasperated he rested his clammy forehead against the cool glass in resignation. The moon's eerie gaze illumined his taut face as he surveyed the land without.