InsaneJournal

Keamy pushed away from his keyboard when he heard the knocking on the door. He understood why people were so angry at him, but he had been doing a job. He had simply been dedicated to completion of The Task.

Keamy had been in many situations in which life was second priority to the completion of The Task, for The Task was to be thought of as a box with all the treasures and beauty of the world inside which could not be reached without great risk, and death in service to the finding of this box, the achievement of The Task, was the highest, noblest death of all which demanded reward by whatever deity that lay on the other side of that drawn veil, be it Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, Satan or L Ron Hubbard regardless of your spiritual denomination. This was what his commander had told him, had told them all, and although both Keamy, his commander and every single gunslinger aspiring to completing The Task knew this was a complete lie; it was not meant to be taken as truth. No, no, it was meant to be taken as a state of mind. They were like method actors, dissolving themselves utterly into the waters of this river in the mind which forever ran in one direction. A river which bypassed all obstacles, trickling over them without stop, and anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in such a river would drown in the depths of hard conviction. Be it man, woman or child, they would be removed from the flow in the most brutal, uncompromising of ways.

Keamy’s mercenary career spanned a good portion of his later life, following his enrolment in the armed forces. His involvement in the military was not strictly a happy one, but it had its moments, and he felt no misery during that time. In fact, he only made one mistake in his six years of service, and that was why he’d been dishonourably discharged. As it was, he did not view his action as a mistake, it was only perceived that way by small men with small minds and small other things.

His mercenary career began shortly afterwards, and he was taken to places he never thought he’d go. Sometimes alone, most of the time with his team, including the commander that introduced the life-changing concept of The Task. He had been around the world, in the harshest conditions in the most dangerous situations. Uganda, Zimbabwe, Sierra Leone and Liberia were just a few of the countries and conflicts he had operated in and applied the philosophy of The Task to with powerful conviction.

He opened the door and was instantly struck in the face with a baton. Before he could regain himself, the baton struck him again in an upwards movement that knocked his head back and threw him off-balance. He felt the metallic sting of the baton again and again as his attacker whaled on him. He tasted blood, and kicked out at his opponent’s legs. In the following reprieve, he leaped on his fallen enemy. It was Benjamin Linus. The rat-faced little bastard he’d been sent to snatch in the first place. He fixed one hand around Ben’s neck, and proceeded to pummel him in the face. Keamy felt blood on his knuckles.