To survive,my tutor told me to kill, that attacking and slicing my predator was a temporary pleasure,I just had to end it all,no pity,for the foes to note the lesson on being against you,and I would listen and hope someday I’ll owe him for all he said but I came to know that I have to kill to feel alive.
To be safe,I had to revenge,that sleeping feeling angry was a sign of insecurity,I had to be awake and plan my vengeance,he always admired such intelligence and I would smile,to retaliate was more than a feeling of comfort,it was a zone that brought about peace other that letting the same flame burn twice.
He would teach about grieve not being on me only,about the hate that I had to show always,
about the joy that it’s never ment to last,about this and that and that,his classes were like an endless waterfall and I would enjoy it’s flow,every bit of it I crowned,like an idol I took him.
So why should I stab him? Why should I let him bled out? He was more than a friend and still I had to suffer in his arms learning,I had more to lose when it came to him and still he taught that the best goodbyes are never said and yes I’m going to stab him.