Satzell - Volume 1

Chapter 7 - That Time

But when his gun shifted targets, now pointing at my mom...

I saw nothing. I only saw anger. I felt an immense blow, a sudden clicking in my head, a rush of blood to my whole body: a need, buried in my soul, to make him regret everything.

His finger was slowly pulling the trigger. My thoughts were blurred, confused, overwhelming.

(Wh-no-Don't do- stop- you doing?)

I froze for the briefest moment, which felt eternally long.

But then, I suddenly snapped.

I threw myself on that motherfucker's hands with all the strength I had, trying to make his gun fall, or at least shield my mother: her life was far more important than mine.

His finger was still on the trigger, but I didn't care. I didn't give a fucking shit.

I looked in his ugly, shitty eyes for a moment.

And...

*BANG*

The gun went off.

*BANG*

Again.

*BANG*

And again.

...

But I. Didn't. Care.

I grabbed the pistol and threw it away, then turned to him and, with a fury and strength I didn't know existed, flanged myself on the ground with him, setting the perfect scene for my revenge.

He was stunned, scared, and didn't know how to react.

But I did.

I reacted by punching. And punching. And punching.

"DON'T TOUCH HER! FUCKING SHITHOLE!" 

I yelled, as I punched with strength beyond human.

My punches made such a satisfying sound when they hit his face, but even more satisfying were his groans of pain.

His face was unrecognizable, full of blood, swelling, and ugliness. I felt my hand bones breaking, but it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered. Only that he suffered. My hands hurt like hell, but guess what?

I didn't care.

I continued punching, completely drawn in my crazed wrath; I can only imagine what he felt: I hope that it traumatized him for life, experiencing pure fury first-hand.

Soon after, I heard people coming; they had probably been attracted by the loud bangs.

I don't know whether I was surrounded by a crowd, maybe even by the police, but I only cared about breaking that crappy bastard's face, I remember nothing else.

It went on for... minutes? Probably, but I'm not entirely sure: my rage was so intense that I fully lost count of the time.

But I did stop, eventually. My face was covered in blood, my eyes were flaring red, and my hands were - with all chances - barely even hands anymore.