Journal: Entry for Bryce

“Once upon a time there was a small village in the heart of Africa. In this village lived a teenage boy. The time arrived for the young man to prove himself to his elders. A test of bravery and skill was organized. If the boy came out the victor, he would be declared a man and be granted access to a wife and lands. In the case of this boy, the elders chose a mighty warthog, over 4 feet long a viciously protective of her recently born piglets.

“The boy wandered toward her burrow, but having never tracked a warthog before was unable to see the tell tale signs until it was too late. The warthog, sprang into action, sharp tusks speeding toward the boy. Surprised but nimble, he managed to evade her first strike. But the wart hog was not about to give up, her fear for her piglets’ lives driving her actions. The second strike succeeded, and the warthog buried her lower tusks into the boy’s flesh. The boy screamed as pain laced up his arm. Fear and pain sped his flight back to the village.

“Having failed the test, the boy was ashamed. The elders forced him to wait a full turn of the moon before he attempted the test. Now, the warthog, being at its heart a simple creature, went about its life with few changes and no preparation. It fed, slept, and cared for its piglets. But the boy, he approached this period of probation as a man does. He trained, working ceaselessly each day to become stronger, faster, better than he had been in their previous encounter. He even pitted himself against smaller warthogs, learning the way they acted and reacted to each of his movements. He learned how to hunt them, spotting their burrows. He learned to fight them, avoiding their upper and lower tusks, understanding their speed and habits. He learned to kill.

“When the moon's turn had been completed, the boy again approached the elders. He was granted his request, and set again and the task of falling the mighty warthog. The man, now confident in his abilities, having grown and changed, easily succeeded at the task, and the warthog was roasted at the celebration of his coming of age

“And that,” the man holding the gun said, “Is really what this is all about, isn't it Mr. Greggor?” The barrel of the gun reflected the light streaming in through cracks in the boarded up basement windows. “Humans evolve. We grow smarter, and when there's a problem, we study it out, learn about it, and then we overcome it. We fix problems, Mr. Greggor.”

His suit was clean, sharp, and precise, as were his movements as he walked up to me and put the barrel in my mouth, his calloused finger caressing the trigger.

“You were a problem, Mr. Greggor. But we trained. We studied you, learned all about you. And now that we've found you...well, now you're just another dead warthog.”