*Author's Note*


I say it again: I Do not own any of the characters from Once Upon a Time.

What do you do when the love of your life; your happy ending dies?

Go kill some random stranger.

This chapter is dedicated to ChippedCup007 who created the thief for me.

Enter Bad Rumple!


Mr. Gold stared at the doctor. "You're sorry?" he hissed, his grip tightening on his cane. "You're sorry. Belle is dead and all you can say is I'm sorry? What kind of doctor are you... " he spat venomously. Dr. Whale took a nervous step back as David Nolan stepped between them anticipating a hazardous situation. The doctor, loosing all nerve, bolted from the lobby. Mr. Gold, ready to pursue him, was stopped by a tug on his arm. Spinning around angrily his hand lurched out, slapping the face of none other than Mary Margaret.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!" he yelled violently, his anger and hurt boiling over.

"GOLD, GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!" snapped David, moving to protect his wife as she touched her now red cheek. She looked at the dealer with sad sympathetic eyes as her husband pushed her backwards slightly.

Slowly she took a small breath. "I am truly sorry for you, Gold. Bell was a good friend and ally to us. If there is anything-"

"SHUT UP!"

"BUT GOLD I-"

"SHUT UP I SAID!" hissed the grieving man pushing past them. He wanted no sympathy, he wanted revenge and he would have it one way or another. He stormed away from the group as they looked on shooting shocked and pitying glances in his direction.

He walked down the halls a new sense of rage rolling though his body. It was worse than anything he had ever been or felt. It was that power that he had once warned his former student Zelina about. The kind that threw you into a blinded fit of rage. Smiling impishly as his cane clacked on the hospital tile. The noise of the hospital was overwhelming to the man, who currently had horrid thoughts running through his mind. The hospital doors slid effortlessly open and closed silently aftered he had passed though. He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply. As he exhaled the deafening sound of glass shattering filled the air. Panicked screams and yelling rose up mixin into the fray. Gold smirked as his eyes flashed a deep amber color as he walked away to the parking lot.

Just as he was heading to his car, an unfortunate man was up to no good. He was in his late twenties and a thief by trade. He was wanted in the town for several store breakins and was on the run now. Needing a car, he had pegged an old black and silver cadillac as his escape vehicle. He had just slipped a metal paper thin rod into the door frame. He was finagling it when the sound of walking ame to his ears. SPinning around wide eyed he stared into the face of the pawnbroker. "M-M-Mr. Gold!?" he stammered in a deep voice, his hands trembling.

"You picked the wrong car," hissed Mr. Gold gripping his cane tightly.

"Mr. Gold...I-I-I can explain," said the thief, trying to talk his way out of the situation.

Gold rolled his eyes, "I am in no mood for an explanation, you rat."

"W-What are you going to d-d-do to me?"

"I'm going to kill you," explained Gold simply, his rage building.

Up went the black lacquered cane and down went the thief. The thief put his hands up in a pitiful attempt at defense as he saw the cane come slicing towards him. A loud crack followed by a wail of pain and the thief was down on the ground clutching his right arm. Mr. Gold had hit the thief with the cane so hard, he broke the man's arm. It was not enough. He brought the cane up and struck down repeatedly. The thief tried to crawl away, but it was no use. He was pinned against the car as Mr. Gold struck him again.

Hitting him with an inhuman force, the pawnbroker growled as he watched the cane smack repeatedly against the man's head. Gold handle met red flesh until blood could be seen forming from a now cracked skull. The thief whimpered and flinched with each hit. Mr. Gold, ignoring his pleas, continued to bash his head and face in until it was unrecognizable. After another moment the man was dead on the ground in a pile of his own blood. Gold looked at his cane, breathing heavily. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped off his cane's handle. He tossed the hankie over the man's crumple broken body and stepped over the thief. Getting into his car, he started it roughly grinding the starter before peeling out of the parking lot as several people looked his way.