What happened behind a closed door tonight would have made Dr. Shelby shake in his sweater.
Kane knew how they looked at him. Everyone. The look on every single one of their faces was the same. They were all the same. The knowledge of what he knew was going through all of their minds when they saw what he did made his fists shake. They shook their heads. They laughed behind their hands. Mockery lurked in their stares. His vision twitched. For a second, he paused, his nostrils flaring as he took a breath.
As his chest heaved with the sheer effort it took to keep his arms at his sides, Kane kept his eyes focused on the ground as his feet took him away. He heard someone calling out behind him, but the blood was pumping too loud in his ears to understand or care.
When his feet stopped, he looked up.
He stood in front of his office.
His hands balled up into hard fists, his knuckles burned white and his short nails pricked his palms.
Office.
Corporate.
The Authority.
The Authority's tamed pet.
Kane.
Kane the corporate suit.
Kane's jaw clenched as he glared at the door. Not long ago, he had exploded over someone invading his space, a place he saw as sacred. Now-
Now the sight of his office made him sick.
His quiet place was stained.
For a second, Kane stood in front of the door, feeling all the rage well up inside of him. His nose scrunched as he breathed in. Instead of each breath calming down the flames, it fanned the flames. His shoulders tensed.
He snarled as he threw open the door and slammed it behind him. One hand unclenched long enough to lock the door behind him.
The office was cozy and comfortable. Posters of pay-per-views and WWE related projects lined the walls with a TV and a couch to relax with. The screen was on, following the rest of the show.
Just the right place for a tamed beast.
With a roar, Kane took the nearest poster and threw it across the room. The frame broke and the glass shattered on the floor.
Somewhere in the back of his skull, the last of his self-control snapped. His eyes saw nothing but red.
The remaining framed posters fell victim to his anger, each shattering on the floor with holes ripping them to pieces by the broken glass. Colored papers with the eyes of all who still mocked him twisted and tore under his shoe. He ripped the curtains from the wall.
For a moment, Kane stopped.
The television was still on. Dolph Ziggler was facing that new boy, Adrian Neville. Neville shouldn't have been in that match. It should have been Seth Rollins, proving to everyone that he was a champion in every way.
But that's not what happened.
Kane's face twisted in fury. His skin burned red. Another snarl pulled at his lips as he took hold of the screen and ripped it from the wall. A spark and the screen went dark as the cord ripped from the device. The snarl escalated into a shout as he threw the TV against the opposite wall. The plastic was no match for the cement wall and it cracked and broke.
Unsatisfied with a simple break, Kane stomped across the office, picked up the broken TV and threw it back across the office.
He didn't even look to see what happened to it this time.
Instead, he moved on. He shoved the couch away from the wall.
With all of the anger, adrenaline, frustration, and pure, unadulterated emotion surging through his body, Kane bent down, lifted the couch, and threw it as if it had been Noble or Mercury instead of a piece of furniture. It crashed against the cabinet the TV had been sitting on. Both pieces of furniture cracked and broke, wood cutting through the cushions to show the fluff and foam underneath the fabric.
Kane stopped.
His chest heaved with aggression still lurking in his huge frame.
The office looked as if it had been hit with an earthquake. Nothing was left untouched.
What was the office now?
His jaw clenched as he observed his handiwork. Instead of office decorations, he wished that it was the bodies of the Authority.
But no, for the moment, Kane was still a beast on a leash.
That leash was going to strangle him.
As he stood in the remains of his office, Kane saw two options before him. He could either continued being the tame beast and lie down to be choked into his eventual death or he could rip himself free.
His eyes burned cold.
He turned, listening to the sound of broken glass under his feet. In that moment, he was aware of a stinging in his hand. Across the inside of his palm was a line of blood. He must have cut himself while he was throwing things around.
Triple H and Stephanie McMahon would probably hear about this—both what happened to Seth and what happened to his office. They would have words to say when they found out about how he smacked around their golden boy. They would have words about "best for business". They would have words for how he wasn't being a team player.
As Kane walked out of the office and closed the door behind him, he found he didn't care.
For all of the care still left in his body, the Authority could burn in Hell.