It had taken me a while to actually really accept it, and live-up to it. City-life seems complex and dreadful to rural folks at start. I had been the victim of violent crimes before. It did not get easier with repetition. Well, for me at least. I had relocated myself to the big city. A new name and a new job along with it. Sometimes I mourned that I could not contact any of my old companions and sometimes the solitude burdened me with a pressure which I could hardly ignore. I had a high price to pay for it. My social life was wasted, and when I felt that the age to sire children, and educate them properly, had become real, then I would always struggle between my selfish craving for luck and relationship versus my responsibilities.
We village-born have a fierce spirit about sticking to our own ways. Like cherishing proverbs, and the words of our elders, so much more than any academic book, no matter, how well written it may be. In my theory that is how we struggle with feeling homesick. We craft ourselves an ego fortress to protect mind and emotions, yet sometimes this fortress does indeed imprison or alienate us so much more than it benefits us. Self-sufficiency is learned early on in our lives. Most neighbors are good folks, it is just that trouble usually engulfs us, when we are unprepared or outnumbered. One could call it a tradition rooted in survival wisdom.
I lived a small, meaningless and bleak life during those early years in the big city. I had so much work, so many problems to contemplate, that I harshly noticed that a decade had passed me by. Aging, the price mortals pay. And so it started. Subtle and harmless, as the early phases tend to be, when the nasties lack complete supremacy. A neighbor had heard something weird rumored about me here, a threatening phone call there. The Nasties see such as success. It encourages them to grow nastier and nastier with their misdeeds. And that was what happened. My letters began to disappear after I had them stamped and thrown into the postage boxes, which our country has within each city block.
The service personnel who delivered letters and packages was most certainly threatened repeatedly, too. The official one from the State-Post-Office still fulfilled his duty, yet had developed a drinking habit, which no divorce could explain. Further it is science which states that there are no real coincidences. Factors seeming to be random could all be explained, if one has the proper perspective and scientific education. An education I lacked aplenty. The nasties had many successes. Yet they were oblivious to certain facts, too. The more terror and threats I had to handle, the tougher my ego developed, and a thirst to see justice & vengeance dare their allegorical marriage was growing within me all along with enduring it.
I got the suspicion they attempted to make me suffer a heart-failure from the stress and anxiety they caused. I based that on the fact that some unknown instance had replaced my medications with placebos on one occasion and with hallucinogenic drugs during the next onslaught. Home invasion is a brutal comfort spoiler. But I was not frozen in fear and made use of my assets. I did not only study the law and resist again. I turned out the lights to practice self-defense from unarmed brawling to armed melee, since I had seen the vile eyes of my new neighbors staring at me in unlimited hatred and spite from across the streets. While the first nights during which I had been followed were just one stalker who wanted to get noticed for the intimidating effect the nasties expected it to cause, I considered it a warning. I henceforth studied my enemies. From the handbook of victimology to self-help sites on the Internet, I prepared to be ready for justice, when it was inevitable. The nasties went on, faking accounts and discrediting me from craven anonymity. All to waste my time and spoil my resources.
My suspicion was that they wanted to blame their villainy upon the paranoid personality disorder which they actually worked to inflict unto me. But they were not flawless. I had some evidence against them and I was by far not stupid enough, to rely on a law which had already looked away on their violations for years. No, I noted that justice could be done. It needs no corrupted and bribe-addicted law for that. Actually I would not be surprised, when I would see the nasties exchange the proverbial secret handshake with the law office and the judge. The guerrilla handbooks had taught me how many regimes and sects commit such crimes, as if routine. Why should I ignore the facts and submit to propagated utopianism then? Who cares... Few.
I had to lose my job, as that is what happens, when an employee becomes trouble. Companies do not care about justice, just about their personal profits. Twelve years of my life quite sabotaged and the nasties seemingly immune to repercussions. I had to wait a long time indeed. Yet then luck was with me, as it seemed. The next night I will turn the tides. This next night I will fight back with everything I can do to bring them to justice. I will neutralize them or die in the trying! For finally, finally Yog-Sothoth has opened the gate I awaited, and the stars are right! After twelve years of torment I can finally use the forbidden salts and speak the words again. Oh, "Cthulhu F'thagn i'äh i'äh!", for OUR savior and messiah does answer our calls! And I will do it. I will even send the ghouls to feast on their bodies' meat and I will send their wretched essence outward into the transient void, or else I die trying...
THE END
