He Knew What He Had to Do

 A man busted through the door of the rickety cottage and slammed it behind him. Wilson was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, drinking a cup of tea. It was cherry flavored, judging by the aroma.

“I’ve been hunting you down for a long time,” the man said.

Wilson didn’t turn around to look at him. “It’s good to see you too, Tyson. What brings you here on this cold winter night?”

“You should already know why.”

“Perhaps. But the fact is, I don’t. So sue me.”

Tyson walked in front of Wilson. The dagger in his hand glinted in the firelight.

Wilson frowned. “I see you got a new toy. How much was it?”

“Do you not remember that night?”

“What night?”

“The night of your birthday party. You wanted to play a game of poker.”

“Oh, yes, now I remember. You ended up losing one hundred thousand bucks.”

“Two hundred thousand.”

“Right. And I won.”

“That’s right. Because you cheated.”

Wilson furrowed his brow. “Did I?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. He stroked his beard in thought. “Hmm…I don’t recall cheating.”

“You don’t recall a lot of things. I on the other hand, recall everything.”

“I know, I know, photographic memory. I remember that at least. But even if I did cheat, that was a year ago. Why get so grumpy over that now? Did you lose your house or something?”

“That and my job.”

“Yeesh. Tough luck.”

Tyson tightened his grip on his blade’s handle and scowled at him.

“Calm down, I meant no offense. Anyways, if it’s money you want, I can give you a check.”

“Don’t take me for a fool. You don’t have any money. Everyone back at home knows about your bad checks of late.”

Wilson tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I see. So, what are you gonna do? Kill me?”

“That was the plan.”

“Huh. Interesting.” He took another sip of tea. “Well, have it then.”

Tyson looked at him in disbelief.

“What? You think I should be afraid?”

“…Yes. I’m about to kill you.”

“Eh. I’ve had a good run. Not the best run, but a good run. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on! You’re going to murder me, get your revenge, and then what? Live a life on the run? Change your identity? Leave the country? Can you afford all of that?”

“That isn’t your concern!”

“It is your concern, though.” Wilson picked up his cup of tea.

Tyson swatted it out of his hand. The teacup shattered onto the floor. Glass fragments and tea were scattered and splattered.

Wilson looked down at a small puddle of red cherry tea. “What a waste.”

Tyson loosened his grip on his dagger. He had been chasing Wilson down for about a year now, going from place to place, asking around for him. He had dreamed of the day he would get his revenge. Now he was here. He had been so focused on getting to this point, he had not even briefly considered what he would do after this.

Wilson lay back in his chair and stretched his feet out towards the hearth. “You know, with all the effort you’ve put into chasing me seeking revenge, you could’ve easily gotten another job, build yourself back up, get a new house and whatnot.” He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Tyson gritted his teeth. The knife shook in his hand. He had a point. Which made him want to kill him even more. But then…did he really want to be on the run for his whole life? Did he really want to risk being thrown in jail?

He knew what he had to do. “I’m going to kill you.”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Tyson raised his knife, hand shaking. He had to do it. Could he, do it? Would he? He glanced at the knife. He knew what he had to do.