Of the Hateful

Of the Hateful. (by Michael Shalyt)

Hate. Dark, slimy, oozing. Clings to your body and to your soul from the inside, then leaks out through the pores of your skin and the look in your eyes.

Hate - drives you onward.

There are many different things that motivate humans to strive. Perhaps the best, purest, most powerful of all is the Belief. Faith in the righteousness of the path: lighting the heart from within, giving the Believers that magical spark in their eyes - the one saying "we are working for a purpose greater than ourselves, we are changing the world".

It is the smooth, futuristic car, powered by clean, sustainable energy.

It is beautiful.

A radically different driving force is Hate. It matters not what is the reason you are overfilled by this evil mix of emotions, be it pain, jealousy, injustice or - my personal favorite - vengeance, the effect is the same.

It is the old, screaking, train locomotive, powered by pitch black coal, polluting the world with pitch black smoke, slowly suffocating the gentle engine operator.

It is not beautiful.

It works.

The Hateful. Can you see him?

He was left behind long ago by the graceful sprint of the Believer - on the sun flooded fields of new beginnings.

As he trudges through the swamp of life, mud and indifference hindering his every step, he just smirks in disgust and keeps walking. The sharp branches cutting his skin do not slow down his even steps - as he does not care for himself. After all, he did not expect the path to be any better.

At the base of the impenetrable wall of ice he catches up to the Believer, slumped in despair, repeating "How can the world be this way? Our cause is just!". The Hateful just smirks again and slowly starts climbing, one ledge at a time.

And when he tires, when he has no power left to take a single step, when he crumbles and falls - like every mortal, when the eyes slowly close - what then? As he falls, the Hateful does not see the pristine white structures of the Believer's bright future. He sees the laughing face of his nemesis - and the rising fury refills the coal box.

The Hateful still falls.

But forward.