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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rage
I watch Iris as she studies the catalogue of the place unable to decide what to have, biting her lower lip. I study her and can't believe that the confused, timid girl before me is the same one that practically attacked a girl outside. Thinking about that I get joy in my heart. She acted like I do when it comes to her. Territorial and possessive. But maybe she was protecting the other girl trying to touch me. I don't like being touched by anyone but her and this could have ended badly. That seems right. Why would she feel possessive of me?
"What are you having?" Iris asks.
"That one." I point at a burger on the catalogue.
I like this place. It was the first place Runner took me to when he found me. I was in a bad place, I could barely talk like a human being. But he got through to me and didn't stop taking care of me ever since. I still remember the day he also brought me here with my own bike. And that was first time I had felt like a human being after a long time. I just thought that I could return the favor to Iris. Human? You are the Hellhound, the voices inside my head shriek in laughter. I shut my eyes together tightly. Not now.Not with Iris here.
"Rage?" Iris asks softly and I know I look bad.
No, no, no. I moan trying to control the screams in my head. I grind my teeth to keep the cry from tearing out. I dig my fingers in my palms and I feel sweat run down my back. I see blood. Always blood, blood. Blood around me, drowning me. But never my blood. The blood of those coming close. Iris.
"Rage." her voice is soothing.
The voices try one last time to dominate me, take control of me, show everyone the feral beast that I truly am. There's a vise tightening my throat and I moan in agony. The Hellhound grips me and asks to show the world who I really am. I am not one to have a nice day out with a girl on the back of my bike. Fucking other people up is what I do. I open my eyes and I am lost in a red haze of fear and rage mixed explosively.
And then she touches me. I know it is her. It's her soft yet firm touch on my arm and it's enough for the Hellhound to disperse. The voices hush instantly and the red mist lifts. I focus and I breathe deeply. Iris is close to me, her face inches from mine, her hand still on me.
"It's OK, Rage." Iris smiles up to me "I got the burgers to go."
I don't know what to say. Here I am, in full blown psychotic break in the midst of other people, ruining her day out and she is smiling at me as if I am showing her a good time.
"I don't like it so much here either." she leans a bit closer "Too many people."
I nod and head out with her close.
"Get on." I ride the bike and beckon at her.
After a while we are riding up the mountain and I realize that without thinking I am taking her to the place I visit when my skin itches too much. There is a bench there, probably for people that go there to enjoy the view and not think of throwing themselves off the cliff. I could ask myself why I am taking Iris up there but deep down I know. She made my room a good place to be, dispels all demons with her presence. Maybe she can do the same there. Maybe I can be one of the fools that enjoy the fucking view for once.
