Hyde

What am I doing?
I'm making a monster.
Why am I doing it?
For the greater good.

The war must be won.
The war MUST be won.

I'm disoriented, an iron taste fills my mouth and my hands are coated in red.
A young man, no older than twenty lays before me, a bite wound in his neck as his last gasps fade to a death rattle.
For the greater good.

They love it, it's unstoppable, bullet, knife, grenade, rocket, nothing can stop it.

I stand, no memory of how I got there, I stand, in the center of a village aflame, with the neck of a child still warm in my hands.
But I understand.
It's for the greater good.

I'm afraid now, I think it knows more, I think it's getting smarter.

I stand in a palace, surrounded by death and gore, a monster's head held in my hands and the red fading from my eyes. It is mocking me, I can see it, the reason in the death and madness, as if its made for my horror with the solders and guards deaths being quick and painless, while the children and helpless seemed to have faced a much worse fate...
All for the greater good.

They cheer, they celebrate, they do not understand the foul taste in my mouth, they do not understand what I see when I meet my eyes in the mirror.

I'm being sent home, to continue to serve. To destroy criminals and terrorists, to kill those who harm others, to fight for my home's continued freedom. The monster will still live.
For the greater good.

It grows worse every day, I'm seeing more coordination in the kills, more malice, more forethought... They love how clean and efficient its become.

Where am I? I wasn't on a mission, I didn't take the syrum, yet I stand in a rundown apartment, a woman's body cooling in front of me, her arms still clutching a screaming baby.
For the greater good?

They wouldn't let me take the antidote.

Where am I now? Oh no... I stand alone in my home, and I smell death. I smell pain. I walk out to the living room and see her, her head on a stake, her face locked in a permanent scream, my poor, beautiful wife. I walk into the kitchen and see him on the table, an apple in his mouth... My son, made up like a roast pig.
They say that it was for the greater good.

I can barely control it at all now. It happens too often.
But maybe I can manage one more act to save.

I look at the gun, I look down the barrel, I make sure its loaded.
Once I fought a war.
Once I saved lives.
Now, its time to save just a few more.
I put it to the side of my head and meet my eyes in the mirror, I see it there, always grabbing for control...
Not this time.
"For the greater good."
Bang.