Caedes

11 | rage

Thursday, 2:34 P.M.

At this point, emotions were nothing but strange concepts to me.

Not that there was anything wrong with feeling a certain way about something, au contraire, feelings could save your life. Hell, pretty sure my instinct had saved me from certain death at least once if that weird vision of me sitting in the darkness in the middle of a storm, covered in blood, was anything to go by. But sometimes... Sometimes feelings were nothing but a distraction—nothing but a pain in the ass.

Ever since I'd come to in the middle of the desert, I hadn't felt much. Sure, I'd been curious upon seeing the strange fox, sad after Annabelle and Jim had met their fate, generally confused due to my lack of memory, and perhaps a little anxious in the hospital. But those feelings had been dull for the most part, like it wasn't really me feeling.

Of course, then there was that constant pull towards the mountains and my general inexplicable fascination with blood and violence. Those feelings were different. While normal human emotions like sadness and curiosity almost seemed foreign to me, that pull and that strange longing sensation were far too familiar. But even those feelings paled in comparison to the one emotion currently overtaking my entire being.

Rage.

White-hot rage.

And I could barely contain it. Upon witnessing Mike meet his end, something inside me had snapped, and it took everything I had not to unleash hell on those currently tackling me. I would probably be proud of my incredible self-control if the situation wasn't so messed up.

But I couldn't take all the credit.

After refusing to back down and successfully shaking off four police officers, a sudden pain shot through every part of my body—like a thousand needles piercing my skin—and I dropped to the floor like a house of cards. After the pain wore off, a fifth person joined the party and together they managed to restrain me long enough for someone in a white lab coat to jam a needle into the side of my neck.

Son of a—

And now I could barely move, let alone think clearly. So, there was that.

One of those idiots eventually realized that an innocent person had been slaughtered right under their noses and finally sent for a paramedic, but it was too late to save Mike. After the last target of her rage was eliminated, Nurse Nutcase suddenly calmed down as if nothing had happened, blood still dripping from the scalpel in her hand. It was like once Mike was dead, she didn't have any reasons to go into psycho-killer mode.

Fun fact: she wasn't tackled to the ground. Unlike me. No, they merely disarmed and cuffed her, slowly and carefully so as to not hurt those slender wrists of hers.

Since my brain was feeling more than slightly fuzzy, I couldn't hear their entire conversation. What I did hear only fueled my rage even more.

"I-I don't know what happened..." Nurse Nutcase was saying as my wrists were being cuffed behind my back, roughly. Me not being able to resist whatsoever made it pretty easy for them, but I didn't care. All of my limited focus was on the nurse.

"I was so angry all of a sudden. I don't even know why..." She shut her eyes tightly and tears started streaming down her face. "I remembered all the crap I had to take from Carla the last few months. She always took the good shifts, always had the best parking spot... You don't know what it's like having to take her shit all the time. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I hated her or anything—"

Sure you didn't.

"—it's just that...she was a real snitch." Nurse Nutcase sniffled as another tear rolled down her cheek.