Hello Again

I took a deep breath.
I paused.
I entered.
There, in the middle of the room, his back turned to me, stood Edgar.
“Hello again. I expected you sooner,” he said, his back still turned.
I said nothing. A brief image flashed before my mind, but I excused it with haste. I needed my concentration.
Edgar slowly turned towards me, the light creeping around the edges of his face, normal until the light seeping in from the door reached and illuminated his nose…a terrible, deformed creature clutching onto his face like some primal ape clinging on for dear life.
I shuddered. The memories this man had incurred…
A mother screaming with the realization. Flames…
I shook my head slightly. Concentrate.
Edgar saw my movement and smiled. He already knew I was intimidated.
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The canvasses in the back of my eyes are flooded with light as the lids are opened and I can’t quite make out what I’m seeing. It’s all just a blur…
There comes the world. Slowly. What had my dream been about? I didn’t remember.
Oh…consciousness.
I’m still incredibly tired as I pull my body up. Something isn’t right. I can’t put my finger on it.
I lean over to check my alarm clock. 8:30. Not bad.
I fall back into my pillow and think for a couple of minutes. Something isn’t right. What is it? Some sort of pain. I remember my best friend’s house. Every time I wake up there I feel the same way. Every time I wake up there I have a terrible zit in some conspicuous place on my face.
I roll over and fall off my top bunk, hitting the floor hard. I lay like that for a second before picking myself up. I’m still not entirely awake.
I walk slowly to my bathroom and flip on the light, looking at my face. Everything normal. Something doesn’t feel right…the pain is becoming more concentrated now, more acute…
I open my mouth and pull my lip down.
You…
“Hello again,” I sigh.
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“Well,” said Edgar expectantly. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
“Hello again,” I said to the villain.
“Very good. We must never forget our manners. What ever would we do without them? We’d just have a terrible first impression about everybody…”
He trailed off, smiling at me. His gaiety would not ease the tension.
“Well,” he said, clasping his hands together neatly in front of him. “I suppose we both know why you’re here.”
Again, I say nothing. There’s no need to say anything. I put my hand on my hip, slowly unlatching the sheathe that holds the steel.
Edgar followed my movements. He had no need to do the same. He made very sure his sheathe would never get in his way.
My hand rested on the hilt.
Moments passed.
Hesitantly, he spoke. “Did you ever consider,” he said, “my side of things?”
The memories came again. I steeled myself against them, but I felt pricks in my eyes. I didn’t want to speak again. I wanted to feel minimal resistance from his body as it gave way to my sharpened edge. But I felt compelled.
“What could you possibly mean,” I spat at him.
“Well-”
I cut him off. “Do you mean the innocents that you slaughtered?” My voice quavered slightly. “Did you mean the way you burnt down people’s homes? The way you struck her down?!”
I was left shaking by the confrontation. His gaze became straighter and more serious. His lips pressed tightly against each other.
“Always with the sentimentality. Always with the righteousness.” He hissed.
My unease was overcome by anger.
“I killed you once, you son of a bitch, I can kill you again!” I screamed at Edgar.
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Anger. “Son of a bitch!” I yell into the mirror. “I thought I killed you!”
I thought I had killed it. But there it stood. A painful canker sore in my mouth, staring up at me, in the same spot as before. A deformed blotch of pure evil inside my lip looking at me through the mirror. As I delicately press a finger up against it, I feel a sharp sting. Edgar’s as feisty as ever.
A ray of hope glimmers with memory. I pull open my bathroom cupboards, searching frantically.
Toothpaste, floss, deodorant, shaving cream…WHERE?!
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The fight began quickly, and without warning. Edgar was the first to move, pulling his sword out and slicing at me from underneath in one fluid motion. I pulled my sword out upside down and it met his with a clang and reverberation. I deftly turned the sword around in my right hand and hacked at him with both. He blocked it. I retracted and attacked again. Good. I had him on the run.
But even in the heat of battle and the thrill of being on the offensive I couldn’t forget the fact that only one thing could truly kill Edgar. As he threw me off of the offensive and began attacking, I began to search the room. WHERE?!
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Edgar stings again. MY GOD, it hurts so badly! Where on earth could I have put it? Blinded in pain, I stumble out of the room towards the kitchen.
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My searching cost me a point. As I examined a corner in the split seconds between Edgar’s attacks, he managed to clip my leg, ripping my pants slightly and leaving a small trail of blood. It stings.
I clench my teeth, and thrust. Satisfaction as my blade pierced the side of his stomach, only slightly. He backs away, and seems unfazed.
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I fling papers into the air, pencils, pens, sticky notes…it has to be around here somewhere. It had been weeks since the little bastard had last been in my presence. The pain begins to envelope me. I curse and lean against the counter. Where…?
There! I see it innocently sitting on the counter only a few feet away from me. My arm extends…
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As I took a quick glance to the left, I noticed something. There! Only a few yards away. Edgar noticed my gaze and followed it. For the first time, surprise grasped his eyes. I turned and made a mad dash for it.
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I unscrew the cap, fumbling, no time for delicateness. The cap comes off within a few seconds and I am rubbing the medicating cream right onto Edgar’s ugly head. It hurts at first as Edgar rages at me in protest, but I continue. And in a few seconds, the pain is completely gone as my lip goes numb. Relief…
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I dived onto the jar with Edgar right on my tail. He pointed his sword down and thrust it into the ground with all his might, but I was too quick for him. I had already rolled off to the right. As I recovered, Edgar had gotten his sword stuck into the floor. There is nothing in my mind as I pull back, and then throw the bottle with all of my strength at the evil person. The glass shatters and the liquid inside breaks through to coat his skin.
I look up, but Edgar is already falling. Before I am fully back onto my legs, Edgar is already on the floor, a lifeless look in his eyes. Victory…
I let out a small chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Who ever let a canker sore get so much power? Well, at any rate, it was over. I picked up my sword off of the ground, sheathed it, buckled the sheathe, and left the man to rot.