Hermann-Gmeiner Park, Vienna, 10:17 am
LaRusso expected some form of retaliation from the terrorists but he didn't get any. It was odd; he wondered if they had realised their sins. The feeling of success had hit him. For so long he had been searching for the meaning of success, now it was crystal clear.
Revenge.
It was so sweet, he couldn't wait to savour every moment from now on. The party's just started. He knew it was illegal, but it was going to be satisfactory; or so he thought it would be.
Some way or the other, he would manage to live with blood on his hands. Dark, evil, vengeful blood. It was the only thing that drove him from that day on, nothing else.
He looked as around fifteen armed men stormed into the streets and the SUV just stayed in place. He could make out the three figures inside.
One of them was an Arab. The motive hit him all too well. For some reason, he felt the need to make the Arab suffer the most. He didn't care if his thoughts were charged by racism, if Arabian terrorists made so many innocents suffer then it wouldn't be sinful to do the same.
We create our own demons. We all have our own that we are trying to hide, battle, or accept. Everyone handles their demons differently.
And his demons were taking over his head, but he didn't care; instead he liked, loved it. And he wouldn't do anything to fix it. Let those demons send anyone in his path straight down to hell.
He witnessed the armed men brutally bring down the three people inside, their faces pressing against the road. His gaze caught one of them looking straight into his eyes. At first, he thought that the downed man was looking somewhere else. But now LaRusso was sure he was actually looking at him.
LaRusso stood rooted not moving at all, then the terrorist did something unanticipated, he gave him a crooked smile.
That only made him stay firm to his stand.
* * *
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