William shook his head. Every time he thought about stuff like this, he just wanted to kill something. He felt the push of his other and the thought of death invaded his consciousness. He grabbed his head with both of hands and tried to force his other back away from him. It wasn’t working and his anger was growing. He was pissed off that this had been done to him. He was pissed that the world worked the way it did. He was pissed that if he ever had to leave the mountain than those agents, whoever they were, would hunt him down and do who knows what to him. What gave people the right to exert their will and their view of the world on everyone else? The rage was growing inside of him, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stop it. The fires of anger burned through his body. He was invincible and his strength had doubled. He could feel adrenaline flood his system. The natural drug of his body coursed through him and he craved that feeling the way, he supposed, a heroin addict craves his fix, and the euphoria of the high. William was high now. He was high on hate and anger and power.
He hated, but he didn’t want to murder anyone. He was content to sit in the eye of the storm. The rage that twisted itself around in his mind made him growl and brought the sweet taste of blood back to his mouth. His body flexed and contorted against itself as he stood there in the middle of the forest. Guttural inhuman growls escaped his mouth as he twisted his body back and forth and let his arm flex and his legs muscles pump. He was an engine of destruction with the sole purpose to harvest and concentrate his own rage. He loved this feeling and he reveled in it. His hate gave him these gifts of apathy and strength. Why would I ever want to give this feeling up? I am God here!
William let the hate build inside him letting it feed off of itself. Rage existed for rage’s sake, there was no logic to it and he didn’t want to control it. He lowered himself to the ground on all fours. He tensed his muscles, flexing and adding other tensions to the steel springs that used to be his legs. He wanted to fight, anything, everything that had ever existed. He wanted to fight Ares. He wanted to fight the world and he wanted to make the wind itself bow down to him.
He stopped, the hate still churning around him. He couldn’t bring himself to even think about killing people that might be innocent. There is no innocence in this world. As much as he wanted to submit to that thought he couldn’t bring himself to agree with it.
There were children in this world that were as corrupted as their parents and spoiled rich friends. Then there were people far older than he or the Elders that had somehow managed to live above the world and live decent good lives. There was still good in the world and if he became the destroyer of it then he would destroy the last spark of good in the world as well.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
As his mind folded around this epiphany, he crouched down even lower to the ground and with a jerk that raised his head and chest upwards and let out a howl of pain and anger that, at least to him, made Ares’ howl sound like a whimper. He let his howl grow and echo off the trees and the ceiling of the massive cavern overhead. He hadn’t let the howl die from his lips before he loosed the stored energy in his legs.
He shot forward like a projectile fired from a trebuchet. He launched himself into a dead sprint and attacked the terrain around him. He gripped and threw claw’s full of dirt and pine needles behind him with every step. There would be no trouble tracking him, but he didn’t care. He was going to burn up in the heat of his anger. He didn’t care about that either. He wanted to fight, he wanted to destroy, and with this body, he now had the instrument to do just that. And even though he could now do everything that he had only admitted wanting to do to himself in his deepest, blackest dreams he knew that the innocence of the few good people in this world would forever keep him from becoming that mindless machine of death that Ares and Huan Li had warned him against.
He threw himself at a tree and kicked off it launching himself into the air in a sling shot maneuver. He spread his body and flattened out catching as much of the still night air of the cavern and the forest as he could. He crashed down to the ground and kicked up a cascade of pine needles as he continued to run, not missing a step in his rhythm.
The rage would kill him one day. But right now, he wanted to use it, he wanted to commit some great act of strength or self-mutilation to prove to the world how mad he was, how pissed off, and how uncooperative he was going to be with the world as everyone else thought it should be. He ran harder, jumping from one tree to the next sometimes jumping directly from tree trunk to tree trunk like some kind of giant monkey. His muscles were tireless and even this exertion didn’t help him burn away the hatred and anger that coursed through his body.
He ran through a copse of trees and saw a rather large boulder protruding from the ground. He ran up to the boulder and skidded to a stop. He gripped the boulder with both arms and lifted. The boulder didn’t move. William gathered himself and plunged his claws deep into the soft soil that surrounded the boulder and was able to rip a hand hold into the bottom of the giant stone. He leaned back and heaved. He felt his back strain and his leg and arm muscles protest. His claws had a good hand hold and he fought with the stone.
He was an engine of destruction, and he would not be denied by a stone.
He lifted harder and pressed his body farther than he would have in any other normal circumstance. But this was no ordinary night, and this was no ordinary circumstance. He jerked his body up to give himself more torque and the boulder shifted. William smiled and howled again in triumph. His body had broken out into a sweat, but he didn’t care, he pushed his body even harder, and the boulder slowly succumbed to his will. He strained against it and with everything that his body was capable of he managed to lift the boulder. In one fluid full body motion, like a weightlifter heaving a world record bar bell over his head, William heaved the boulder into the air.