zeal of his love

THERE WON'T BE ANY FORGIVENESS, THERE WON'T BE ANY MERCY

HEY GUYS,

HOW'S LIFE?

FEELING LIKE KILLING SOMEONE, OR FLOATING IN THE AIR?

ENJOY THE NEXT ONE:

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"Bahar",

(Leave,)

Angrey barked at the men sitting behind the computers leisurely eating pizza in the CCTV monitoring control room of the VR Mansion. The three scrambled to their feet, rushing out at the order of their second-in-command underboss.

Angrey sighed, cracking his fingers as he plopped on one chair. He plopped down on one of the revolving chairs in the corner looking around the large well-equipped room. With one side wall covered with small televisions around and a flat big one in the middle and the table in the front with all sorts of buttons and all. Both palms on his thighs, his jaw clenched while his sharp eyes, filled with unshed exhaustion fixated on the door.

The stillness of his form could have easily made anyone mistake him for a statue. His revolving eyeballs were dark with anticipation as the tension in the room at its peak if not careful could slice through anybody. Finally, the door opened the new tech guy stepped inside with his iPad in his hand. Handing it over to the underboss, the round spectacled quaking nerd ran like the wind. He was wanting to put as much distance between himself and the lord of danger.

Angrey blinked rapidly, stretching his eyes to clear his fogging view as darkness struggled to choke him to unconsciousness. Shaking his head like a dog he hit his skull scaring away the exhaustion as he hit the play button. Throwing the iPad on the table in front of him Angrey rushed to a corner, falling on his knees as he purged himself of the threatening onslaught of nausea lapping at the base of his gut. The video, the ugly truth drowning his raging heart. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, sliding on the floor beside the mess he just made as he leaned against the wall eyes shutting down on their own.

He never took himself to be an emotional type, any type of real feeling in his heart was because of his boss, his brother. That man stood by Angrey during all thick and thin. And the thought that his brother would be devastated after this footage would come to light. He sighed, disdainfully eyeing the laying iPad, his hands itching to bang it against the floor, to stomp on it to wreck it. He fisted his palms, gritting his teeth, reining in his emotions. The disgust pilled inside him at the horrifying part of the real truth.

He growled, hitting his head as a fiery scream summoned from the pit of his stomach set his lungs on fire resonating the hell night to quiet deadness.

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VANSH'S POV:

I got to my feet, the chair tumbled behind me throwing the iPad against the wall with a growl.

"Boss",

I growled baring my teeth at Angrey, and he backed away. I fisted my palm, closing my eyes as I breathed through my nose. Eyes clenched shut, I leaned against the big table in front of me, both palms placed on it, digging into the scrappy wood as scratches covered the edge. The cunning rage brewing the lava inside me.

My face flushed as the tightening in my chest choked my lungs as I flipped the table over. Debris flew in all directions as the big computer sitting on it crashed to the ground. But with the chaos building inside of me, there was no putting out of the dragon fire rising higher and higher.