Day 36 - Knife Story

Knife Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 The Knife Maker was an evil man who made evil weapons for evil men who committed evil deeds.

The Knife Maker was considered a master.  His skill increased the more he made; each passing blade was more refined than the one before.  The knives grew smaller and sharper and much more deadly with every innovation.

If you knew the right people who knew the right people you might be able to schedule a meeting to schedule the purchase of a future creation.  The waiting list was long.  Each was hand crafted.  Each was unique with its own specialty.  Each was very very expensive.

The Knife Maker had no pangs of moral conscience.  He made his knives and didn’t care who you were or what you were planning to use his knife for.  He was in it for the craft, for the problem solving puzzle of it all.  As long as you could pay your privacy was your own.

There was no way of knowing how many lives had been damaged or destroyed by the Knife Maker’s knives.

The Man of Wrath had dedicated his life to learning everything he could about the Knife Maker’s knives and the lives his knives had touched.  If there were one man on the planet that knew nearly as much as the Knife Maker knew about the Knife Maker himself it was the Man of Wrath.  And when it came to the lives the knives ruined, the Man of Wrath knew a whole lot more.

Years before one of the Knife Maker’s knives had been used to commit a heinous crime where the Man of Wrath’s wife and daughter were killed.  Since then, the Man of Wrath had only had one mission in life.

It took years before the Man of Wrath met the right people and years again until those people met the right people who know the other right people so he could finally get to the people that knew the Knife Maker.  The Man of Wrath was added to the wait list, and then all he had to do was wait.

When he finally got his meeting, he told his story, explaining in clear and grotesquely precise details the events that occurred and how an evil man had wronged him and killed his wife and child.  He wanted a knife to use to make this man pay.  He wanted a knife that would kill, but kill slowly and painfully.  He was planning on making as many tiny little cuts as possible before he let the evil man die.  He wanted the Death by 1000 Cuts to pale in comparison.

The Knife Maker had no idea who the Man of Wrath was or who the evil man in the story was.  All the Knife Maker knew was that the Man of Wrath had more than enough money and the job was intriguing enough.  There was a challenge here, a puzzle to be solved.  He enjoyed solving puzzles.

Eventually the Man of Wrath got his weapon and the Knife Maker got his money.

The Man of Wrath had had years to make his plan.  He learned the Knife Maker’s movements, learned his habits and schedules.  When the time was right, he came to the Knife Maker’s home.

The Man of Wrath made his way down the darkened hallway.  He had trained for years and was sure of his fighting styles.  The Knife Maker did not look like a man of action, but one could never be too sure.

A noise came from the end of the hall.  The Man of Wrath had not expected this – a six year old little girl.

The Knife Maker came from his room to investigate the noise and see why his daughter was awake.  He recognized his handiwork before he recognized the man who wielded it.  He vaguely remembered the Man of Wrath’s story.  It wasn’t that important to him at the time.  He had never cared for their stories or their reasons.  He only cared for the knives.  But he realized that his other life had wronged this man.  He was sure of that.

He looked the Man of Wrath in the eyes, then looked at his daughter and then back to the Man of Wrath.

“Please.  Not here.  Not her.  Please…”  There was nothing else he could say.  He knew no apology in the world would make a bit of difference.  He didn’t deserve to be spared.  He knew that.  In some way he was surprised only one man had ever come looking for some form of vengeance.  He just didn’t want his daughter to see it or for her to pay his price.

The Man of Wrath didn’t move.  They all three just looked back and forth at one another.

Eventually the Man of Wrath was just staring at the Knife Maker’s daughter.  His stance weakened as did his grip on his blade.  Slowly, he sat himself down on the ground and began to sob uncontrollably.