Letting Go
Doyle screamed in anger as his claws ripped into the tree, the combination of the black talons and his enhanced strength tearing rough shards of wood out of the trunk and sending ragged splinters everywhere. His beast was so very close now, the yellow-eyed monster inside him spitting hatred and venom into his thoughts.
Hatred of Maycomb too cowardly to face me
hatred of the Carthians only mistake was letting them live
hatred of the Priscii clinical old fools who'd let it burn to see what happened
hatred of the Invictus call me a king call me a paragon then leave me to die
hatred of the city cry out to me beg my help and hate me for making you accountable
hatred of his court running when I need you and furious when I don't appease you
hatred of Jordan madman laughing at pointless death I'm not your out you psychotic...
hatred of Sofia use me abandon me leave me to wait while you run off to die won't let me protect you are not worth the promise I made kill you drink you up make you MINE
A tree fell. An unearthly roar drew the attention of nothing save the animals surrounding the acres of woods, a swarm of bats surrounding the trees where Doyle slumped to his knees in the snow, seething and hurting, and feeling acutely, utterly alone.
"Why won't it stop?" he said quietly, to no one in particular. "It won't stop. It won't go away. WHY!!"
He punched the remains of the tree, and the bats jumped, flitting about their perches around him. He was cracking up. He knew it. He was breaking down; he couldn't do it all on his own. He couldn't face everything. He wasn't strong enough. This city didn't want a prince, it wanted a monster. A demon that would kill anyone who dissented. It didn't want him. It rejected him like a disease rejecting its cure. Ungrateful, petty, dishonorable little shits, all of them. And the rage, the hatred, the anger, it clung to him like tar. He could rip out every tree in his woods by the roots, and it wouldn't ever go away. God, it would be so beautiful, to just give them exactly what they wanted, just for a little bit...
The blood hammered in his head, the fury still making his hands shake. Yes kill them all that was it. Give them a demon they keep needing to put them in their place show them a beast if they want a beast leave them too terrified to stray. Just like Spiral true monster had. The only time the city had been prosperous. When everything had been Sofia better....
It felt like relief. Freeing, as he tilted his head back and let the red haze cloud the edges of his vision. The aching, the agony, the memory all dropped away from him, like the loosing of a tensed muscle. His mind slid back into a hungry, chilling kind of comfort as he felt blood pushing through his eyes. He looked up at the moon and laughed, long and loud, the bats flitting and swirling around him as he rose, slowly, still gazing skyward.
"So, is this your goddess, 'grandma-ma?'" he said with a smile, holding out his arms as the bats encircled him in a spiraling torrent of wings. It felt good, very, very good. The wind was cold on his face, and he threw off his long coat, leaving it in the snow to savor it across his arms. "You sick bitch, is this why you seemed so goddamn happy?" He laughed again. "Fine." He turned on his heel, feeling suddenly liberated and walking with a bit of a cold swagger. "This city doesn't know what it's wrought."
He looked up to the lodge, smiling predatory as he saw his guards nod to him. He waved convincingly enough, his claws long since retracted - hide them, hide them from the prey and the fools, let them think you're weak and helpless, let them think you're one of them. "They think I'll handle everything for them, don't they. Doyle will take care of it. Doyle has no feelings. Doyle's a robot. He'll do whatever we ask, because darn it, he's a nice guy. And what better to do with a nice guy than use him until he breaks. We kill our heroes, in this little shitpile." He smirked, scoffing at his words. "Ray, Ray, Ray....whatever am I gonna do to you...besides kill you, of course. I have to kill you. I'm a hero, after all."
"This is how I show my heroism."
Hatred of Maycomb too cowardly to face me
hatred of the Carthians only mistake was letting them live
hatred of the Priscii clinical old fools who'd let it burn to see what happened
hatred of the Invictus call me a king call me a paragon then leave me to die
hatred of the city cry out to me beg my help and hate me for making you accountable
hatred of his court running when I need you and furious when I don't appease you
hatred of Jordan madman laughing at pointless death I'm not your out you psychotic...
hatred of Sofia use me abandon me leave me to wait while you run off to die won't let me protect you are not worth the promise I made kill you drink you up make you MINE
A tree fell. An unearthly roar drew the attention of nothing save the animals surrounding the acres of woods, a swarm of bats surrounding the trees where Doyle slumped to his knees in the snow, seething and hurting, and feeling acutely, utterly alone.
"Why won't it stop?" he said quietly, to no one in particular. "It won't stop. It won't go away. WHY!!"
He punched the remains of the tree, and the bats jumped, flitting about their perches around him. He was cracking up. He knew it. He was breaking down; he couldn't do it all on his own. He couldn't face everything. He wasn't strong enough. This city didn't want a prince, it wanted a monster. A demon that would kill anyone who dissented. It didn't want him. It rejected him like a disease rejecting its cure. Ungrateful, petty, dishonorable little shits, all of them. And the rage, the hatred, the anger, it clung to him like tar. He could rip out every tree in his woods by the roots, and it wouldn't ever go away. God, it would be so beautiful, to just give them exactly what they wanted, just for a little bit...
The blood hammered in his head, the fury still making his hands shake. Yes kill them all that was it. Give them a demon they keep needing to put them in their place show them a beast if they want a beast leave them too terrified to stray. Just like Spiral true monster had. The only time the city had been prosperous. When everything had been Sofia better....
It felt like relief. Freeing, as he tilted his head back and let the red haze cloud the edges of his vision. The aching, the agony, the memory all dropped away from him, like the loosing of a tensed muscle. His mind slid back into a hungry, chilling kind of comfort as he felt blood pushing through his eyes. He looked up at the moon and laughed, long and loud, the bats flitting and swirling around him as he rose, slowly, still gazing skyward.
"So, is this your goddess, 'grandma-ma?'" he said with a smile, holding out his arms as the bats encircled him in a spiraling torrent of wings. It felt good, very, very good. The wind was cold on his face, and he threw off his long coat, leaving it in the snow to savor it across his arms. "You sick bitch, is this why you seemed so goddamn happy?" He laughed again. "Fine." He turned on his heel, feeling suddenly liberated and walking with a bit of a cold swagger. "This city doesn't know what it's wrought."
He looked up to the lodge, smiling predatory as he saw his guards nod to him. He waved convincingly enough, his claws long since retracted - hide them, hide them from the prey and the fools, let them think you're weak and helpless, let them think you're one of them. "They think I'll handle everything for them, don't they. Doyle will take care of it. Doyle has no feelings. Doyle's a robot. He'll do whatever we ask, because darn it, he's a nice guy. And what better to do with a nice guy than use him until he breaks. We kill our heroes, in this little shitpile." He smirked, scoffing at his words. "Ray, Ray, Ray....whatever am I gonna do to you...besides kill you, of course. I have to kill you. I'm a hero, after all."
"This is how I show my heroism."