v12-final1

of death. So much for a change in subject. My jaw tightened along with
my right hand around the empty glass, forcing the moisture from the ice
to cool my hand and temper. The words flowed out of my mouth with
chilled anger, “I do not fear death. I hate death.”
Michael seemed to frown at my response, “I am sorry my new
friend, I did not mean to make you angry. I only ask, because in my
business, I see people always afraid of death. In contrast, people like you
aren’t always afraid. I only wish to understand.”
Looking at Michael, he appeared sincere in his words and mannerisms.
His face gave away that there was something more to his question,
there was something personal. Michael came tonight looking for answers,
just as I had.
I turned back, looking forward at my own reflection. I thought
about Michael’s words on how and why people die. His words made
sense, I may not have wanted to listen, but I knew what he said had a
logical flow to it. I owed him a response.
“Death is not my worry. What comes of it comes. I do not fear
death, I hate death.” My traction began to settle in, as a strange dark
firm hold took control, and I spoke with greater confidence as my hatred
spoke for me. “I hate the loss that death brings. I hate the living effects
of death. I do not fear those whom I hate, and death is not different than
any other enemy in my book. In the killing business, death is both an
intimate partner and your mortal enemy.”
Michael, for a stoic fellow, appeared to have been dealt a blow
by my comments, and responded with concern, “What of the possibility
that death leads to a new beginning? Is there no good associated with
death?”
“Death of our enemies provides the ultimate living recourse for
justice; to this I see some good. Death, in effect, allows us to bypass our
systems of courts and laws. Those who die at our hands, die because
they engage us. Their cause, just as our cause, will be judged upon our
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