Short Story: Who Cares?

“Whatever dreams or machinations exist in your warped little imagination, I want you to keep ever on the cusp of your consciousness, the fact that . . . “

I wasn’t listening at that point. His words just sort of droned on in the background. I don’t know why he bothered. Victory lap? I assume. He’d got me, thrown me in jail, and I knew I wasn’t leaving. I think he just wanted me to care.

It was a Pyrrhic victory if ever there was one. His pursuit of me cost a fortune; his wife, neglected, unfaithful; his children, or were they? and all to see me behind bars, rotting away in a damp little cell.

What did I care about a cell, a prison?

“Are you done?” I interrupted.

“Done!” he exclaimed.

“I mean, have you finished? Are you satisfied? Fifteen years older, and here’s the crown of your work, a loathsome creature finally captured. You should have hunted lions. They bring more glory. Or a bear, perhaps. You could at least make a rug.”

The sight of his sneering face was like wine to my eyes.

He struck the bars of my cell and yelled, “I’ll . . . ” but his words fell away.

“What are you gonna do?” I challenged. “They’ll hang me soon. Don’t know what they’ll do to my body. You could dig me up later, though I doubt I’ll be so much fun with my neck all broken. If you save my life, perhaps, you could keep me here for another five or ten years. Come by and visit, pace before these bars angrily. Rant about whatever. Would you enjoy that?”

He stepped away, backing into the shadows.

“Stop,” his voice broke.

“Oh, I’ll stop. What’s the phase? ‘short drop and a sudden . . . ‘” I didn’t finish it. “That’s all life is: for me, for you, my victims. It’s a short little affair, and we’re all condemned to die. I’ll have the pleasure of knowing when. When will you die? I wonder. How will it go? Chasing another me, the next one like me. And you’re older then, not so fast, and he’s faster. The boys coming up after me, wow, was I ever that good? Think about it. It’s just a series of terrors. I was the monster. Did my capture even make it to the front page? Who cares? I don’t.”

“I caught you,” he said.

“You could have killed me yourself,” I laughed.

“I couldn’t.”

“No, that’s right, ’cause I didn’t resist. Your little honor, that lie you believe, kept you from the one thing that could have made this whole venture worth it. I knew, so I took even that away from you in the end. But my games are done now. Go. Be happy. You won, didn’t you?