It started out like any other day. That is, the first few minutes of it. When I woke up, Tails wasn't in his bed. No sweat, he must be downstairs. But when I got to the bottom of the stairs, something didn't seem right. There were no noises there indicating that there was anybody there but me. Maybe Tails was out somewhere! Yeah, that must be it!
He left the house very often. But that still didn't explain the strange feeling I had. It was a hot feeling, one that made sweat drip down my back. What did it mean? Why was it there? Whatever the reason, it could mean nothing good. So I stepped forward, full of unease, starting to sweat faster, feel hotter.
Then I saw it, on the floor, gleaming brightly, reflecting the light around it. I opened my mouth and let out a scream.
Blood. On the floor. Right there. I was sweating like crazy, the sweat pouring down my whole body. My breathing grew short and ragged. I was shaking. My heart was beating faster, faster. And increasing all the while was my feeling of dread. Racing through my veins like an adrenaline rush. And yet I continued forward, following the trail of blood.
A shark, tracking down a wounded fish. Dreading what I would find, but drawn by the force of curiosity. The horror that lay at the end of the trail was a magnet, drawing me closer, closer, against my will. And yet I knew. I knew what it was that was drawing me forward.
I had heard it last night. The scream of terror, the two gunshots, the thud on the floor. Yet I had dismissed it. Dismissed it as a fight outside, concerning a couple of strangers. I didn't want to think- to consider- what might be the truth.
But now I knew. Knew, but didn't believe. It wouldn't- It couldn't have happened. The clues added up, but I dismissed them. Dismissed them as a miscalculation. There was only one thing that would make me believe it.
And there it was. Glowing in the early morning sun. Fur matted, tangled. Mouth open, blood in his mouth.
This time I didn't scream. I was beyond terror like that. I couldn't make a sound. It was almost like I was being suffocated. I could hear my blood streaming through my body. Sweat was pouring down my face, blurring my vision. I was burning hot. Hot like I had been thrown in the oven, with the temperature on high. Yes, it had happened…
Tails was dead. My breathing temporarily stopped. I couldn't move, paralysed with horror. I fought hard, and, after what seemed like an eternity, managed to draw breath.
And then it happened. A raging storm of anger, streaming through my blood, supplying my body with white-hot anger. I was turning into the very thing that is Fury. I was on fire. The fire of Anger. The pain was unbelievable. Like nothing I had ever felt in my life. I was screaming, but screaming inside, for my voice wouldn't work. Then the world went red. Not black, but red. The pain was intensifying.
Suddenly, it was over. The red faded a bit, but the world still seemed to have a red tint. I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn't work. I panicked.
Then Tails caught my eye. Memories of what I had heard came rushing back to me. Tails went down for a glass of water. A figure in the doorway. Tails' scream of horror. BANG! The bullet struck Tails in the chest. Tails got up, turned around, and tried to run. BANG! This bullet hit Tails in the back of the head. THUD. Tails fell to the floor. Footsteps, as the murderer ran for it. He had escaped. But not for long.
The thirst for vengeance was burning inside me like a wildfire. I could feel the fire, the heat. My legs allowed me to get up now. To grab a knife from the kitchen. I could feel the fire, feel the heat. I would kill. Kill the bastard who had shot Tails. I would dig the knife into his body, slicing him apart. This time it would be his blood. I'd cut arteries, making it bloody as possible. The image flooded my mind. Yes, Tails would be avenged…
How's the story so far? Interesting? Boring? Flooded with talent? Completely abysmal? Or somewhere in-between?