Monday, 13 April 2009

"They Call Me... Daniel"

... and I was beaten. I couldn't believe it, the day started like every other day, but this, this newcomer beat me. I've run into little trouble-makers like this one before and I've always beat them in their own game sooner or later, but it seemed I had finally met my match. I got slapped around like a disobedient dog trying to steal snacks right under the owner's nose, and there was nothing I could do about it. Anything I tried to do to end it was countered with a better, unexpected move. I just had to stay there and take it, and pray that when I finally get to leave I could still keep a bit of my lost dignity.

I turned off the light and went to bed, defeat still haunting in the back of my brain, yelling "Loser! Loser!" I just stared at the ceiling, thinking... No, I couldn't leave it at that, let some bastard beat me that easily. I had to finish what I had started, I had to get my revenge. I needed a plan.
Suddenly the outlines of my future comeback hit me, a trap so cunning it couldn't fail when done right, and at that moment, you could say, the fate of that little weasel was set in stone. All my plan needed was a little polishing. For the next few days and nights, the entire Easter holiday, I continued with my usual business as if nothing had happened, but at the same time my brains were working overtime to perfect the plan so that nothing would be left to chance. During the final evening, I just sat there, in the dark, my eyes staring at nothing in particular... but mind going through everything the next day would see, step by step.

The day came. The trap was set. All it needed was... execution. I tried to act as normal as I could. A smile occasionally crept on my face when the thought of what was about to happen raced through my head, but I wiped it off and set my eyes on the target, determined to come through this one last clash as the victor.
The bastard didn't even see it coming. I played my part to the end, acting like a beginner trying to win a game of chess against Kasparov, letting my opponent think it would be just a repeat of the previous, but then... my moment came. A split second before it was time to act the thought of backing down at the possiblity of failure ran through my head, but once my plan was put into motion, nothing could stop me. And it felt good. The whole time I was like in a frenzy, and when the fight was over, my enemy defeated in front of me unable to do anything, I felt proud. Proudness soon changed to certainty, that I always were and always will be- unbeatable. The one.

I just stood up and walked away, casually, as if nothing interesting had just happened. This wouldn't mark the end of my personal war against the likes of this one bastard, but everything after would be child's play.
And as I turn my face towards the next challenge, I can rest assured... Level 08 of Desperados: WDoA will never fuck with me again.

The End

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