The Mask Of Beauty and Rage (Brahms X Greta)

Chapter 4 - Reminisce

A room that held the toys of a young boy. Disturbing memories of grief laid within its dark essence. Shattered frames had fallen from the fractured walls severing into an explosion.

Bloodshot eyes had opened in horror, as his pupils dilated drastically. A shaking body rested on the floor in agony as the blood poured out like heavy rain. Weakness and betrayal were scattered through his very soul. Taking a hold of the weapon with a firm grasp that had been implanted through the gut. With one sharp pull there was a scream of pure terror.

His breathing was intense trying to control the amount of air traveling into his porcelain nostrils. He held his stomach tightly as laid on the messy floor. He gripped onto anything for dear life to try pull himself up. He climbed onto the bed with a low grunt escaping from his lips. He left like his weight was crushing him to death, but still determined to stand. Sweat and the scent of rotten gore traveled over his large frame.

He managed to get on top of the tiny bed with a huff. He pushed himself hard, making the man stand tall but fell forward into the dresser from lightheadedness. His hands slammed on it loudly to suppress from another hard fall. It made the dresser rattle against the wall along with some of the toys on top of it slowly rolling off. His head rested against the cool solid wood.

Waiting, he felt... cool. He hands went straight for his face, but jerked it away fast in a panic. His mask had been destroyed after all these years; he felt rage beginning to grow once again. To only see the top half of his mask was on floor.

Broken.

Forgetting he had been bleeding to death, he quickly picked up his other half. Ignoring the agonizing feeling he felt. His emotions ran like a wildflower. He pushed himself through the doorway not even bothering to go through his secret passageways. Well, sadly not much of a secret anymore.

Holding his body up against the walls leaving a trail of crimson blood behind. He grasps the wooden railing on the grand staircase firmly making his knuckles turn white as a ghost. His other hand still holding onto his wounded area along with the broken porcelain. He pasted the luxurious portrait of his family not daring to look at his deceased parents faces. Since his mask wasn't on fully. Showing the burned side of his face would sicken them if they knew he didn't have the mask on. They would be mad.

He reached the bottom of stairs as his brows furrowed hard from the smell of death and an unwelcomed intruder. Removing his hands from his stomach forgetting the pain that was planted within him. He walked into the room where everything went wrong.

The rotting corpse of an alcoholic bastard laid on his very floors. Brahms blood began to simmer as his mind went back to Greta, and..... Malcom. The day his parents left him he knew he should've told them to get rid of Malcom. Brahms knew his parents liked Malcom, they wouldn't want to throw him to the curb so easily. Even though they throw him away, there own son, there heir to the Heelshire Mansion. They treated him like their own since they were both children. Malcom was a couple years older than Brahms of course, but Malcom always seemed to have gotten everything he'd ever wanted.

Malcom was the son they never had.

Brahms felt himself get angrier at the unsettling thoughts. These two men ruined everything for him, his last chance to live what he called a normal life. He took Greta away from Brahms. Brahms clenched his fists and only stared at the decaying body. Greta was his to love and care for...... not Malcom. He wanted him to pay for what he had done to him, as kids, and as adults. He loathed him.

Brahms took the closes object near him and smashed it over Coles body. He then took a chair next to him and lifted it over his head with such powerful force by anger. He slammed it on Coles head making his head slightly crack open from the intense force. Brahms yelled with fury and frustration as he bashed him repeatedly. He was breathing heavy not even noticing he dropped the other half of his mask on the floor.