Rage is the residential psycho of the club. Tormented by his own demons he lives in pain and agony, a constant state of rage. Everyone knows him as the Hellhound of the Riders of Tyr , known for his cruelty and the joy he gets from causing pain. To...
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Rage
I am doing the same thing I did for the last week. I am out on my bike looking across the street. At that one window. When she isn't working, she is locked in there. It is too early in the morning and no brothers are up yet. It is as if it is only me and her in the whole world. I take a long drag from my cigarette and let the smoke out through my nostrils. My eyes are pinned on that window and I refrain to blink for fear I might lose her. From time to time she appears passing by, doing chores in her room, putting things in order.
I know well I sound like a creep but I like watching her even if it is from across the street. For some reason it...calms me, sooths me seeing her. Maybe calm is a strong word. I am never calm, not really, ever since I remember. But looking at her, feeling her close makes me stand still. I turn my eyes to that window that has taken all my focus for that last week.
I know Iris is up and is doing some clean up in the room. She is always up early in the morning. She doesn't seem to get much sleep either. Her light is on most hours of the night and when she turns it off she always keep a small light on. She has painted the room in a bright color and that thrall, Wood, helped her move some furniture around. I wanted to crash his skull just for talking to her but I hit the gym instead. I have no right, no claim over that girl. If anything, I must keep away from her. For her own sake.
I get up on my feet to go away, trying to stop obsessing over that scared girl, when she appears at the window, rendering any thoughts of keeping away mute.
"Iris." I whisper.
The cigarette I am smoking is left hanging from my lips as I feast upon her vision. She is looking straight ahead, over the buildings, probably at the bay. And all she has on is a towel. Her long hair is wet and her skin shines as the waking sun is reflected on it. I feel the blood rush through my veins faster and faster and I put out my cigarette. I can't tear my eyes off that window and I feel as if a part of me is torn to that little patch on the hard, concrete wall. How did a girl like her found her way under my skin and why, I can never tell.
I have seen how the rest of my brothers are with women. I have seen them pursuit and go after them like I do when I have my mind on my prey. I never quite understood why. My mind doesn't work like others' do. I am too broken, too damaged to feel how people feel. But looking upon her, I get a glimpse of what my brothers are craving for. I could...Maybe...
And as these thoughts cross my mind, just like that, Iris turns and looks at me. I can see her big, grey eyes pinned on me and I inhale sharply. For a few seconds, I get lost in that warm, swelling feeling having that beautiful girl look at me once more. And then I know I have done it again. I am the creep spying on her in her towel while no one is around.
My hands curl into fists and my body shakes as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. I pull my eyes away from her, turn my back and go inside without glancing her way. I go straight to my room and slam the door behind me. I fuss with my hair and shake my head violently. She saw me. She saw me watching her. And I sure as hell scared her for the third time. If she is a smart girl, she will stay the hell away from me for good. Like every other that gets too close.
"FUCK!" I take all my rage out on my bed.
I toss it over and send the mattress on the floor. I never bother with sheets and shit. I barely am a normal human being so why sleep like one? I kick the few things I have around and then I sit on the cold floor, hissing, swearing, howling like a hurt animal.
"Rage?" I hear Tor's voice outside.
"LEAVE!" I howl and I hear footsteps go away and voices in the hallway.
My knife. I need my knife. I reach inside my cut and take out the blade. Sweat is dripping down my every pore, my pulse is racing and the howling screams in my ears deafen me. I need to take the edge off and cutting myself won't help. I get out on the corridor and head straight in the main room. All the brothers that live in the club are there, all eyeing me murderously for waking them up but none dares say anything. I focus on Tor.
"Anything?" I ask urgently.
I need him to unleash me onto someone. To send me to kill. Tor gets up and comes closer. He is rubbing his eyes and is barely suppressing a yawn. But when he is a few feet away from me he comes to and looks alert. Everyone is on their toes around me.
"Bror..." Tor's tone is serious.
"Anything?" I press.
Tor frowns and shakes his head. Runner gets up from his chair. I am shaking with anticipation and I feel the screams in my head getting louder.
"Come on, man." Runner's voice is smoother than usual and that's how I know I am bad.
I reach in my pocket and get a cigarette. I am pacing up and down while feeling all the eyes of the brothers on me. I am still in yesterday's clothes and am barefoot feeling the cold floor under my feet. But the rest of me? The rest of me is hot, burning, blazing. I take deep drags from my cigarette letting out the smoke with violent breaths. The thrall brings out fresh coffee and the rest of the brothers either sit around to drink it or start heading for their rooms. And at that moment the door of the bar opens. All eyes turn to it and mine, too. Iris is standing there with her hands twined before her.
"Good morning." she says with her soft, low voice.
Don't get me wrong. I love Rage. I don't enjoy torturing him and you don't even know what makes him the way he is.
But if there is nothing broken to be fixed, why bother tell a story.
