Within Myself.

Vishous
I sit in the escalade out on a stretch of empty roadside on the outskirts of Caldwell. The night only slipped overhead mere minutes ago. How I made it this far away from the Manse in so little time was my personal best record. When I left the Pit I left a note for Cop saying a simple be back later and left it on the counter. I was off patrol and the place seemed to be busting at the seams with people and right now I wasn’t even fit to be around myself. I could feel it clawing at my insides; its hooks were not only buried in me they were an extension of me that took on a force of its own. It was a mixture of fire and ice, the heat snaked its way through me while the iciness tried cooling it to keep it at bay. I was able to lock it down, shove it away, but never forget it. The powers it held over me wouldn’t let me forget and I didn’t want to….that was the vilest part. There were times when I needed it, when I fed off of it, when I let it take root and fester. I did my job because I could, it was who I am but the other stuff, the cleanup, taking out humans, vamps and whatever that got in my way or even others ways, that part of me came from the fire that dwelled in me. Sometimes I felt split down the middle, when I looked into Butch’s hazel eyes I felt almost normal. In those times I could touch and be touched, I welcomed it and would even beg for more if he thought to take it from me. It was then that I could listen and partake in the Brotherhood and be a part of it all. I knew it was because of what Cop reached in and pulled out of me that made me able to laugh and even talk. Then again still I did more listening then talking, I came to find out I could listen easy enough, even give some decent feedback but in the end I kept my stuff mine. Hell I wasn’t even sure I could drag out my shit; I was the one who dodged that part of talking like a motherfucker. I was void of that voice that pulled you back from edge, surely if I had one I wouldn’t have strung up a Lesser for a week and skinned him or set my own kind to the flame that my own being produced. There was no thinking, only acting and doing to appease that part of me. I did feel bad about stuff when I had to look in Butch’s eyes and tell him the truth; I guess he was that voice that was supposed to be my conscience. But this wasn’t his to have to deal with. We all had our demons, we all had battles that we had to stand and face alone; this was mine and would be until the last drop of black blood dripped from my veins. It had nothing to do with being happy, I had Butch, and for the first time I had a place I actually called home. But like my Brothers, this was my cross to bear, I watched Z face part of his demon when he came to me with the skull and I watched Butch when the Omega was trying to pull him in. There was something that ate through our system and monopolized us. I envied them both for tackling what they had. Shaking my head I stepped out of the Escalade and shut the door behind me. Nothing but my own breathing could be heard, I moved further and further away from the side of the road until I walked into the wooded area. Here and there you could hear a scatter of small feet or the wind lifting a whirl of leaves only to drop them in a different array. I had to get refocused, to reign it all back into the nice neat package I carried around most times. I stopped at the foot of a great oak, it was bigger around then even Rhage when he beasts out. Mighty and strong, exactly what a warrior was supposed to be but what did you call one that hungered for the feel of blood spilling over their hands, through their fingers, who craved the cries of those pleading and begging for their next breath, one who got off the feel of hold a blade and slicing it through flesh? The name that jumped to mind was one that I knew well enough, I was bred from the stock that invented hell on earth. I slipped my arms out of my heavy leather jack and let it fall with a thud to the still ground, my weapons came next. My head tilted back as I let my eyes roam from the trunk of the tree up to the full top of it. I dropped my head back down and let loose a blood curdling shout that shook the very ground I stood on. With the last expel of heavily heated breath I took on a fighter’s stance and started way laying into the unmovable bark of the tree. I pummeled the wood like it was the Omega himself standing before me. My chest burned with the force of the hits I was throwing out, my arms felt like bands of steel and my fist yearned for more of the treatment. I could feel the biting of the wood digging and cutting into my hands, the warm blood leaving a splattered mess on the tree. It fueled me on and before I knew it I ripped my shirt off and let loose what was in me. It was either out here where no one could witness or be a victim to me or go on patrol and find a bloody fuck up to shred. Here was the obvious choice, here it was only me that suffered and no one could witness a thing. I went old school, back to my camp days. I trained like I had the Bloodletter breathing down my neck. I found boulders embedded in the ground, even a rusted out broken-down barb wire fence that I used. I don’t know who long I spent out there working over every part of my body and I didn’t stop until I could feel the leather encasing my hand vibrate from the unsheathed power that ran through me. I used the rocks as weights, the trees as my enemy and the barb wire as a reminder. I dropped down to my knees when the rain started pelting down on me. My head was bowed down and the only thing that moved was my chest as I pulled in heavy gulping airs of breath. There wasn’t a muscle, bone or piece of flesh on me that didn’t feel the stinging burn. I peeled my eyelids back and watched as the clean rain water washed the oozing blood down my chest and into the now muddy earth. Licking my lips I let the coppery taste linger on my tongue before I pulled my face back up. I let out one more gut reaching breath before I pushed back up on my feet. I was glad as fuck for the heavy rain that fell from the sky, it washed away much of the crud that was plastered to my body. With little ease I grabbed the end of the barb wire tied around my chest and unwound it then I went to work on the parts of broken wire from my arms. Hissed air brushed out my cracked lips with each tearing of skin until it was all removed and laying in a bloody tangle mess at my feet. I let my eyes drop down to look at the abandoned fence pieces and then up to the marks marring my chest and arms. That was all it took to have my diamond eyes lighting up and my cock thickening behind my leathers. My fangs pierced through my tongue and I tore open the front of my pants letting my heavy cock jut free. I wasted no time in wrapping my bloody fingers around my length and start stroking instantly. My legs were braced to the ground like tree trunks and my once unsteady worn out arm was now working my length as if my life blood depended on it. Instead of just breathing the night was filled with animalistic groans and grunts all the way up until I felt my sak draw up close and my cock jerk hard in my death grip hold. Then and only then with the feel of the assaulting rain mingling over the open wounds with the warm liquid spilling over my hand did I let out a long drawn out moan that had my mouth hanging open and the chords in my neck bulging out.