1.4) The Sheep Dog and The Wolf

Abigail opened the door to her hotel room. It was pitch black, but across the bed and the shabby TV, she could see that there was someone sitting by the open balcony in the shadow, next to her dimly lit desk with countless files and photos scattered throughout.

As Abigail reached to switch the main lights on, the shadow spoke.

“... Leave it off.”

She rested her hand on the switch, then slowly took her hand back. Then she walked over to the table and sifted through the files that she had been working on. After she confirmed that these were all the files she could give the person in the dark, she placed them back on the table.

She knew who he was: a man who wanted her help in getting his vengeance on the people who wronged him. She empathized with his pain, but because he was not in any immediate danger–because his situation could wait while the apocalypse could not, she had no choice but to keep him waiting until her return.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Cillian. This is all I can do for you for now. I’m set to leave for America in the next few hours.”

The shadow stayed silent.

She continued, softening her voice further. “Listen. I can promise to help you further once I return. Can you wait for me?”

The shadow spoke in a low rumble, with doubt evident in his voice.

“... It’s impossible. The way you handle things... makes this impossible, Abigail Kovacs. You will never find the people responsible.”

Abigail shook her head. “That’s not true. I’ve helped people like you before. I’m certain I can find the people responsible for your pain. I just need more time. Believe me.”

The shadow scoffed. “Sure. You tell all these naive fools the same thing. And they believe it. But I’m not naive–I’m not stupid enough to think that the people responsible for me can be brought to justice. Not through you.”

The shadow pointed at her. “You are a sheep dog, Abigail Kovacs. You do your best to ally with the sheep, trying to catch the wolves who prey on the sheep. But the world isn’t so simple, is it? You should know this somewhere deep within your heart.”

He continued. “That’s right. The truth is that–in our world, and probably in any world–the true villains are disguised, wearing sheep's clothing. Yes, true evil lives among the sheep, torturing other sheep in plain view. And no one can do anything because the sheep dogs and the sheep alike cannot spot a wolf in sheep’s clothing...”

“... And those who are preyed on by these disguised wolves–these innocent sheep–have two options: to become a wolf or to be tortured until they are broken and killed.”

The shadow shifted in his seat. “Sheep cannot fight wolves. So when sheep want to retaliate, they become wolves themselves. Perhaps they will hurt other, innocent sheep in the process, but they will eventually be able to find the disguised wolves if they continue their efforts. The ones who caused them all the suffering…”

“... But of course, these undisguised wolves are easy to spot. So these wolves that were once innocent sheep–these wolves are the ones who are often hunted by sheep dogs, like yourself. And while the wolves fight the sheep dogs, the disguised wolves watch and laugh.”

He leaned forward, but not enough to reveal himself in the light. “Well, let the sheep dogs come. Let them enact their ‘justice’ on these wolves that had no choice but to become wolves.”

Abigail crossed her arms, leaning back on her desk, considering his words.

“Cillian, you don’t mean to tell me that you’re going to go after them yourself?”

The shadow scoffed. “So what will you do, Abigail Kovacs? Hunt me, knowing that I only want retribution as you do?”

She frowned. “To not harm the innocent–the ‘sheep’, as you call them–we have to have rules. You can’t just go around tearing things apart.”

“And that is why you will never make a significant impact on the world, Abigail Kovacs. You could never pull the true masterminds by the root. You will always be busy dealing with the things obvious to your eyes... never anything that remains hidden in plain sight.”

Abigail slightly tensed at his accusation, reflexively clenching her arms.

The shadow rose, grabbed the files she organized for him, and walked to the balcony.

“I could care less about the end of the world. I want to watch my tormentors crawl beneath my feet as they draw their last breaths. To watch as they pray to their gods and beg for their mothers for someone to save them. And I will laugh as they look at me with their terrified eyes. And because you’re too busy ‘saving the world’, I’ll take it upon myself to make it happen. I will wait no longer.”

Abigail reached out to hold his arm. “Cillian, we can talk about this...”

He swiped her arm away with hostility, threw down the files, then grabbed her by the collar and pushed her against the desk. And under the desk light, Cillian finally came into light.

His eyes were crimson red and his mouth was like that of a vampire’s. His entire body was scaly and green like a snake’s without any hair. Where his eyebrows had once been had become the foundation of what looked like horns. Behind his shoulders were bits of dark bone matter that seemed to have tried but failed to grow into wings. His veins were a shade of intense blue, his blood no longer human. 

This was Cillian. A failed experiment from the underground, who had been thrown away and assumed to have been executed–a man who had been turned into a wingless devil. A victim.

“Look at me. Look at me!” he seethed, shaking her by the shoulders. “Do you think we can talk this out?! These destructive impulses within me tell me to destroy and kill–the only reason I talk to you without crushing your skull is because of that damned sword of yours. You would be dead. I want to hurt and kill you too as well, Abigail Kovacs.”

He threw her onto the wall, picked the files up from the floor, then walked back onto the balcony.

“I would gladly wish for the world to end and kill everyone, but I don’t. Because it wouldn’t be painful enough. So I’ll take it upon my own hands to share some of my pain with those who deserve it.”

As Cillian put his foot onto the railing, readying to leap off, Abigail wondered if it would be a good idea to kill him and end his pain right then and there. Would the world benefit from his elimination? Or as he said, was he the “sheep turned wolf” who was capable of pulling evil by its roots? And would striking him down now only benefit the evil that caused all this?

Either way, she had little time to decide–and by a split-second decision, she decided to quietly watch as he leaped off the balcony and onto the rooftops.

Abigail dusted her clothes off and sighed, getting up and stretching her back out of habit despite not being affected by any of his violent gestures. Then, she began packing her things to prepare for her journey to prevent the collapse of the sky. This mishap would not affect her journey; she had been in similar situations in the past.

The truth was that Abigail was fully capable of bending the rules when she felt the need to do so–this was one of those times.

Cillian was a man who demanded retribution to his pain. She didn’t see anything particularly wrong with that, so she had decided not to get in his way. She would let things play out, then deal with the consequences once she returned. And since he had controlled himself all this time, she had some faith that he would only punish those who deserved it.

She couldn’t be everywhere at once; she could only do good where she happened to be. So she left it up to him to take care of things here–whatever he chose to do from now was up to him. She just hoped that his own journey would be worth it, and that by the time she returned, he wouldn’t have become a monster that she would have to cut down herself.

She could only do so much to try and save everyone.