Rage

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Elias Cross

F everish. That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of busting out of this mad house. Only then I wonder, who can stop me? The answer is no one. Not a soul can keep me grounded in a world like this where everyone deserves every horrific thing coming for them and it’s going to be me who delivers it.

Does it make me crazy that I get hard every time I think of thick, red, blood painting my skin? If so, I don’t fucking care. I’m ready to serve them their sentence with violence, even more so than the last time. I’m fucking turned on at the thought of them all begging at my feet for mercy.

The doctors here believe my thirst for blood is fuelled by my mental condition, but the only mental condition I have is the crazed desire to destroy. To take it all from them. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing.

“Mr Cross, time for your meds.” The guard nudges me forward in line to the window where they dispense our medication to keep us numb and stabilised. I’ve been waiting for the window of opportunity to present itself to me and I think tonight might be it. The guards will all be in a meeting and all I need to do is steal one of their security tags.

How hard can it be?

“I’ve seen a big change in you Elias.” The nurse smiles, her freckled face beaming with pride. “We rarely see anyone with this much of a drastic change in such a short period.”

Yeah, if you can call two years a short period.

“Doing my best.” I pick up the cup of medication she slid over to me and wedge the pills between my teeth and gums. I’ve become a professional at this since I’ve had time to practice and now, they’re none the wiser.

“Let’s see.” The guard pries open my mouth, I lift my tongue then push him away.

“If you want a kiss, there’s a nicer way to go about it, Jones,” I spit, giving him the finger and walking into the community room. It’s always so fucking quiet in here, everyone clearly high off their fucking faces. Some staring at the walls and speaking nonsense, others picking at their skin.

Just watching them makes me sick to my stomach. I know that feeling, when the fuzziness coats your entire body, and the only sensation you have is bugs crawling over your skin.

“It’s light, and it’s dark all at the same time.” Mendez looks up at me, a man I shared a cell with the first few nights I got here. “They want you, Elias. They call out your name in the middle of the night,” he whispers, and I kneel to his level.

“Tell them I’m coming.”

“Th...th...th...they want your soul,” he stutters, his face contorting with fear.

The hard truth...they already have my fucking soul, but they can keep it because where I’m going, I don’t need it.

I don’t have room for compassion or empathy.

I will never care for others, the same way they did not care for me or my sister.

The world be damned.

“Mr Cross, so good to see you’re well.” Dorris speaks as she walks by in her white coat, observing the room and I try to blend in. I don’t respond, pretending to fidget with an item on the table, something I probably would have done if I was destabilised from the drugs.

Most people wouldn’t return to the place that caused them harm or discomfort but I’m not most people.

When I’m done, everyone will come to know the name Elias Cross .