Done Unto

I am what you dread. Mistakes caught up to you, your past come to haunt you. All your sins are known, and they will not go unpunished.

As you do unto others, beware. You've heard it before, in one way or another, you were warned. Did it never occur to you that there might be a flip-side to your Golden Rule? Do as you would be done, or or you will be done unto.

That's me.

Some seek purpose and find none. Wasted breath wasted time. Wasted lives. I am not one of them, I know my purpose. I name myself vengeance as I craft in retribution, brought at will.

Sometimes a diversion, sometimes a thrill, always justice. Delivered in many ways, I excel. I revel. I do this so well that you will never know, not until it's too late.

Unless I tell you.

Which brings us to this point. You wonder even as you read this. What did you do, for what will this accounting come? You know you did something. You know there's cause. There's always cause. That's the thing, that's the beauty of this. I could as easily act at random and still name this justice.

That's not me.

I take the time to know, and I've taken time to know you.

I see it in your eyes when you don't see me. When you look quickly behind you because you know you heard something, I see it then. When you think you see movement from the corner of your eye, I see it then too. Dread, your anxiety yields to terror once you know you're had, when you see that you are mine, and your heart starts hammering in your chest, you're pale in the face of what you face in me.

No, I've gotten ahead of us, that's yet to come. For now, we still play.

You will be helpless when the time comes, by design. By my design. I'm always ready for your next move. I've been watching and waiting. I know what to expect from you. Don't you wish you could say likewise?

I do unto others, my purpose, and my motive is pure. What you face is a penance, harsh yet redeeming. Better to meet your end cleansed than to go and be not absolved.

You should thank me, but you won't. I don't do this for praise.

When your phone rings, once then nothing, is that a warning? Maybe it will ring and keep ringing until you answer it. Then it's click and no one's there. A silly little prank, more perturbing than disturbing. The first night.

But one night, after you've quit answering the damn thing and it rings and rings and rings and you can't take it anymore, you reach for it, your hand's on the receiver, then it stops. Odd timing, simply coincidence.

That might not be you, though. That's not who you are. Maybe you'd just take the phone off the hook, and leave it off, because once is enough, and you're not to be trifled with. Maybe you'd get a good night's sleep. The first night.

But what about the night after that? How would you feel if, after that deep and peaceful sleep, you find the thing back on the hook come morning?

How near am I? Would I still see doubt in your eyes if I tapped you on the shoulder right now?

You have no name for me, nor will you. You may not know what has set me on your trail. I bet you never saw this coming. Or perhaps I presume too much, maybe you do know what this is about, what's put you in my crosshairs. Atonement might be always on your mind, and you may be more than ready. You might just be the one that finally gives me that last long look of grudging gratitude, you might truly appreciate the deliverance you know you had coming.

I don't know what you're thinking, nor do I much care. This happens either way and you have no say. Even if you welcome this, we still move at my pace.

Silly little phone games. An uneasy feeling in the thick of the night. The nagging certainty that someone's watching you when they shouldn't be. Things that are out of place. Things gone missing. Dread when you're all alone, you find yourself making excuses not to be alone. Lights you've left on by 'accident'.

You're had already, I've got you where I want you, and I am unrelenting. I am long on patience, the anticipation fuels me. I know how sweet this will be.

Picture me standing in the darkest recesses of your home. Because I have. I have been that close, and closer, closer than you know or would care to admit. Cloaked in shadow there and elsewhere. I may be at this very moment.

Sooner or later you will feel that dread when you're all alone. You have before, and you know it. You will again. When you finally crack and that same nagging uncertainty takes hold and shakes you like a child's toy, you'll summon help to you. On some pretext or another, you'll summon help because you won't be able to bear it, not one second longer.

So consider this. What if the help that comes is me? How would you know? Unless I tell you. Until it's too late.

I might even be someone you know. Someone you trust. Is that such a stretch?

Once upon a time there was this hot, steamy bathroom where you tread blissfully unaware. You serenaded yourself beneath a steady stream of hot water cascading down upon you. You scrubbed all your troubles away.

How troubling it would be to confront me there, with nothing to place in my way but soap suds. Utterly helpless, trying to cover your shame and retreat from me in the same motion, sheer fear would leave you breathless when all you'd want to do is scream.

Maybe next time.

You know that feeling you get when you step into a dark room? A simple switch that perversely refuses to be found. You're unnerved, wary, even a little bit afraid, you need the light to banish the darkness, to show yourself you're safe.

Anticipation.

Did you lock your door? Do you really think that will stop me?

We may play it out exactly like this: you come home from a long, hard day. You unlock your door, or would, but you find it's unlocked already. Puzzling. Such a long, hard day, though, you just want to get your day behind you. You come in, lean against the door, make sure it's locked this time. Then fumble for that same light switch, but this time there's no light to be had. Darkness remains, how can you show yourself you're safe this way?

Well, you're not. And if my hand touches your hand as your hand touches the switch?

Variations on a theme, each as delicious as the last. The lights come on like they should, but there I am and there you are. There we are together and things progress from there, for me at least.

Am I really watching you? Right now? Could I really be that close? How soon this will come you simply don't know. But I do.

Do you remember locking that door? Check if you like, but it doesn't matter.

Leave your lights on, sleep with one eye open if you must. Whatever gets you through your nights, be my guest. Even if you do see me coming, is there any comfort in that?

What did you do to deserve this? Something, it doesn't take much.

How long before you are done unto? You'll know then.

Goodbye until next time. Until there's no next time left.

END