Lessons Learned in the dark - 9/16

This is the part of the movie where the figure in the shadows steps forward.
Flicks the last third of his cigarette with his fingers.

If the twin corpses at the man's feet had breath, you'd have bet they'd have screamed.

Instead, their gas-drenched bodies silently shiver with flames.

The child is staring down the fire. They were his parents.

The figure claps a ash-covered hand on the child's shoulder.

Guess I've just made your fucking night, he drawls.
Not every child gets to have an origin story.

And decades from now, when your knuckles bleed from the weight of skull to fist, you'll remember me. Hell, maybe even thank me.

But you'll never take me. I lack a name, a face, even the dignity to stay alive long enough to face you. I'll probably measure out too much heroin, fall asleep in a bathtub.

Peaceful-like.

Well, kid - it's been fun. Have a nice life.