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He was angry! He realised it now. Anger was a constant presence in his life, a companion that had joined him from his origins. It was a part of his being. He could feel it boil inside, knotting his guts, clasping his brains in a hot iron grip. It was almost painful. And yet so familiar. Experiencing this every second of his life he came to understand and recognise it's every shades: fury, madness, dessespair, hatred with a precision that would astonish the most knowing psychologists.
He could distinguish it even from the sound of his steps on the metallic floor. Fury would have a sprinted, heavy scamper, madness – a little more mildy one, and desperation brought quick but quiet waddle. His desperation was always connected with a failure. Nothing else could cause him that emotion.
He was concentrated now at his pace, listening the noise of his steps registering every emotion whitin the anger's range he felt. He felt so alien lately and only those reflection of his mood could reveal his true inner turmoil. It was an uproar, but not the one he was accoustomed with. And then he felt a sense of recognision.
He wanted an end. He wanted somethig else. This reaction surprised him. It came so late, so unexpectedly. Suffering each day he ceased to wonder why. It was so much easily to blame the others and much more comfortable to accept it and live with it. It was serving his goals. It gave him a constant …..not hope, but an ambition to cling on in a fight he knew he will never win. But which he will never give up. It was another part of himself. It was his destiny.
He took the corner in the direction of the scream that caught his attention. It was soon followed by cries and gun shots and the observer figured his men had given a party. Again. Despite his orders to maintain the order. He stopped in the door's rim unnoticed by the green, apparently drunken silhouettes in front of him, to assess the situation and eventualy decide an appropiate punishment for the boozers. A high pitched yell distinguished itself from the hubbub of others; it sounded as a cry of pain and it further stirred the curiosity of the observer.
" Awww! It bit me! "
A series of peals followed, their grotesque echos amplified by the drowned glassess of beer that laid on the ground, behind them. The goon drew his gun and aimed down at something near his foot. The snikers and the insults of his comrades told the observer he had missed the target. Which wasn't exactly surprising. Just like the swearings of the angered goon in cause were either.
" Damn monster!"
He uncounsciously blinked. It came from the abysses of his being and struck him like a thunder. Like the magical abracadabra that preceded the spells, the word brought his whole life unfolding in front of his mind's eyes, the bile and the bitterness of the memories almost making him sick!
It was the first world he had learned, long before he even knew it's meaning. His first name. But he knew it was something bad, something scary from the disgusted looks of those who had given it to him.
It hurt! He felt like being stab with a sharp knife everytime he heard this word. And he knew it was for himself. Long ago, when there was still innocence sparkling inside him, when he feared it. He rejected it.
Why? The question had haunted him ever since. Some would say it was destiny. He differed from it. If Destiny would have existed it would be on his enemies list. And he was sure he'd hate it even more that those blasted kids who ruined him victory after victory!
It wasn't his fault for being the way he was. He didn't asked to be so… strange, so different, so…. monstruous as they called him.
Everytime he tried to approach them he got rejection. And humiliations. And this word. Monster. For who he was. For what he was.
Like a door slammed in his face so many times that trapped behind it the most appaling side of the human nature. They even denied his humanity! For a guilt that wasn't his!
No, he was not a monster! He didn't wanted to be like this! The word imprinted in his heart and mind letting them coarse and harsh like a rock of granite, wiping off every single bit of humanity left! They made him what he was. In every aspect! It shaped the creature he was today! The monster! The word no longer scared him! He no longer rejected it. He come to accept it as his only true identity!
And what was the best…. They no longer called him what he had become. No longer dared. He took his vengeance on each and every one for the pain that had caused him. Their blood on his hands fueling the anger whithin him.
Yes, he was a monster! And it felt good!
Another frustrated cry of the goon who missed the target again brought him back to reality! He pushed those thoughts back in one of the deepest corners of his mind, and went back studying the situation.
He grinned cruelly, anger flooding his senses, giving him the familiar sensation of bloodlust.
He stepped in the light of the campfire, treading heavy enough on the grainy soil to get their attention! He cursed the idea for a moment when the armed goon pointed the gun in his direction, obviously fearing for a wild animal. And his fears were so right!
Even in the dim light he distinguish the paniked expression from the man's face when he realised the mistake. He immediately dropped the gun and straightened himself in as dignifying posture as his alcohol steamed brain allowed. The others quickly followed the example of their comrade, stumbling a bow of acknowledgement to the Gallactor leader.
" What is the meaning of this?"
The icy tone of the snarl sent shivers on their spines and made them tremble in fear. It was well known that the Leader did not liked at all to have his orders disobeyed. He would get rather angry when that happened. And one in his right mind would not annoy the ruler of mighty Gallactor. Sadly, they happened to be right in this misfortunate situation now, which further stirred their trembling.
The little lizard took the opportunity and creeped away between the rocks, safely from it's human skirmishers! Which were now experiencing the awe of the poor creature as the figure advanced towards them cape waving behind him.
They stood unmoved and swallowed hard trying not to show up their fears.
He stoped in his pace for a moment and the mask tilted down imperceptibly as a rustling noise and a movement flashed behind his foot. He couldn't retain to smile behind the mask at the feeling of complicity and understanding he felt for the little being. A feeling he never felt for a human. No, for humans, he only had disgust. He was superior to them in every way!
Speaking of which, he turned to deal with those who dared to disobey him.
The four green clad sentinels stood unmoved exchanging worried looks as their leader paced in circle around them like a predator that has cornered his prey and it was now savouring it's fear.
They knew they won't get away this time and each of them was wondering now the same thing. How severe will be the punishment will be.
He stopped in an end, when the goons started to feel dizzy from keeping their eyes on it and rolling them to follow his movements.
" Follow me!"
They obeyed the order and pursued him along the halls from the underground base. To their relief it didn't lead them to the torture chambers but back into the goon common hall, which was empty at that hour save for the guards here that didn't fail in doing their duty. Maybe he was in a good mood tonight and the punishment won't be so severe.
" Harris!"
He called the leader squad. The other sentinels made the formal bow of salute and come to him to listen his orders.
" Yes sir?"
He turned to the faulty goons behind him and pointed them with a gesture full of disgust.
" Shoot them!"
The commander nodded unfazed and readied his gun.
" As you wish, lord Katze!"
Moral: Alcohol damages the health! Badly!