A man stripped of everything by his vengeful wife undergoes a transformation, a dark one.
|I'm done. I'm done playing nice. Sarah, you have led me by the nose for far too long, stepped on my heart and took the things I gave to you and trashed them. You think a woman's scorn is hell? I'll show you the devil's wrath, unlike anything you could imagine.
My name is Franklin Maverich. You took my life, death is the last thing you deserve.
The clicking of silver-soled boots caught a few glances as a cloaked man, little over six feet tall, walked with closed composure through the dingy underworks of Austeron City. He lifted his head his face covered in shadow to look at the large manor on the hill, his former home. Inside his pretty wife was probably taking every cock in sight, he thought to himself as he gripped the handle of his 44.
"Never forget..." He whispered, his voice gravelly and weathered.
It was a long walk up the winding road. He bit down on the toothpick in his mouth as he began the accent. Every step his muscles quivered and burned, a product of the quiet storm building up in his heart. The gate was soon upon him. He looked up for the lock he'd placed but his assumption of her laziness was wrong. She'd changed the locks and by the look of things, a patrol surrounded the home. It was like she knew he might come back from the dead. He took cover behind some crates and drew his weapon. He was getting in, whether she wanted him there or not. As a small patrol of three burly men came around, he watched them closely. One was wearing a helmet but the others were completely unarmored. He counted his six shooter's ammunition and pressed forward with a brisk step. As the three sighted their weapons, Franklin flicked the revolver to his hip and fan-fed the two armorless chumps one for each head. The helmeted one turned tail but he had a bead on him.
A sighted shot picked him off from the edge of their temporary camp, right through the neck. He knew he'd have to hop the fence so breathing in and out deeply, he prepared his hefty body for a little more activity than he'd gotten in a couple years. With a kick jump from the nearby cliff face, he leaped up and grabbed the higher ridge of the iron wrought fence and scaled it. Once over he slipped a few bullets out and loaded the gun as a few more guards, these ones all armored stepped out from the shadows. Franklin didn't flinch, keeping his shadow-hidden eyes from them. As the five came jogging Franklin took his gun and held it high in the air, calling for submission. The guards looked at one another, unsure what to do. When the leader came forward, holding handcuffs, Franklin put his arms down slowly, dropping the 44. He pressed one cuff on and as he went for the other Franklin yanked his hand slightly sending the cuff rolling around and snapping onto his wrist. He desperately reached for his gun but was far too late.
He pulled the weaponless man to his chest and held him between the guns pointed at him as he kicked his gun back against a crate, bouncing it off and catching it without missing a beat. He gritted his teeth as he knocked down each guard with a single shot through their goggles and finished off his body shield with a point blank headshot. Sarah was going to have to do a lot more than that to deny his vengeance.
"Maverich!" A whiny shout caught his attention.
He scanned the area before a plume of smoke caused him to tuck and roll for cover.
'"I thought you were dead, man." He cackled, running around to the left side of the building top.
"This is my house, bastard. I thought you were my friend. I gave you everything, I kept you out of the streets!" Franklin cried out, feeling a wayward tear well up.
"And look where that got you. You should have just left me to die in the streets, man. I'm putting that wife of yours to work, by the way!" Another stray rocket hit his last place of cover decimating the crates he was hiding behind prior.
"After she got you killed, we had a good laugh, man you are dumb! You spoiled her rotten and now she's with me! Guess all that goodwill you were talking about didn't mean a goddamn thing, huh?"
Franklin jumped over the crates, firing blind at the rocket-toting psycho. He sprinted hard when he fired the last bullet and ducked behind a truck.
"You know she sucks dick good for a young one. Had her slobbering all over my nuts, shit. I busted all over her face. Said you were a boring old hack! Well, when she wasn't screaming my name like a bitch in heat!" He laughed, his voice echoing across the network of speakers on the property.
Tears dribbled down his face as his eyes tinged blood shot red.
"Come out here and face me, coward." Franklin hissed.
"Coward? This coming from the bitch who was so pussy whipped that he never even kissed this woman. Hey, Sarah, you wanna say hi? Oh, wait she's can't talk with her mouth full!" The voice was followed by soping soggy gagging and sucking sounds.
Franklin bit down on his toothpick hard enough to snap it in two. He ducked down and ran around the front entrance, sliding between more crates. He took a crack shot at the nearby camera and climbed up it and through the blind spots of the other two as he made his way up the wall as a cacophony of guttural sexual noises surrounded him, taunted him. He slipped inside on the second floor and made his way to the stairwell. He drew his second revolver and loaded the first one. A few guards were positioned by the stairwell which he picked off. One came from behind, wrapping him up in a bear hug.
Could you buy me a bigger ring? Please Franklin!
Happy wife, happy life!
I want to get a bigger house. Have kids maybe, I don't know but first, we need a bigger house!
Happy wife, happy life!
Happy wife, happy life!
Franklin could feel his chest tightening, his lungs puffing out as his sight began to fade.
"You...you... Bitch!" the thundering shout seemed to shake the foundation of the manor as it reached every room.
Something snapped. A wolf was unchained. A man crossed the second line, the line that dictated the limits to which he should act. Compassion faded like a distant memory. efficiency gave way to brutality. Franklin pinched one of the man's nipples and tore the section of skin clean off. As the man's grip loosened he jammed his fingers into his eyes and pushed until the man stopped squirming and flopped down in a dead heap. As Franklin tugged his bloodied hand from the corpse's sunken skull, he resumed his walk to the stairwell, slowly and predatorial.
"Oooh, such a badass!" the cruel man on the speaker laughed again.
Franklin grabbed his gun off the ground and threw it at the camera facing him, shattering the equipment irreversibly. As he walked up the stairs several guys came at once, descending upon him like rain. He slipped the knife from one's pocket and used it to gut the next. Ripping the intestines from the falling body he flung them at the guy behind him, tripping him. At the top of the stairs a bloodied, emotionless man stepped around the banister carrying the head of one of the fallen guards. Another ran to fight, when he stepped and slipped off the bloodied head bowling his way, he was caught on the blade of the knife Franklin had stolen. Franklin ripped the knife out and flicked it to the next mook, splitting his nose around the dirty blade. Another one came, another died cruelly. He crushed a head against the marble floor here, snapped a spine and a neck there and he was standing in front of the bedroom doors.
He pulled the doors apart and was greeted by a wall of gunfire pelting his body. Franklin's shredded corpse staggered back before leaning forward again. The soulless eyes held no glimmer of humanity, no shred of the former man he was. He continued to walk, his hands clenching tightly into fists. Laying on the bed, his naked ex-wife coiled back in terror as Franklin reached out and grabbed his betrayer, drinking in the terror in his eyes. He begged for his life now, crying a blubbering mess as Franklin dug a finger into his eye, pushing through until he hit gray matter and tearing open his skull. He tore it apart like an undead monster as Sarah tried to run. He tossed the brained corpse in her path, tripping her up. Before she could smash against the floor he caught her.
"Fuck you! You never gave me anything I wanted. Die! Just die, damn it! I killed you already!" She screamed.
His deadpan look was all the response she got as he picked her up by her neck. He threw her onto the bed and grasped her arms as she squirmed away. With a quick motion, he pulled and unsocketed her shoulders with a resounding crack and a blood-curdling scream. He couldn't hear it. He kept pulling as skin gave way to muscle and that gave way until her arms had come completely off. He threw them aside and grabbed her by the hair and began tearing it all off. She screamed until silent, cried until dry as he tortured her to death, ending it with a well placed cracking of her skull against the pavement as she fell from the master bedroom window. When she lay dead, he fell to his knees and died as well, his lingering regret finally finished.