[centre][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/02cdd9c09aa40cd768278752ad9b19e8/tumblr_inline_nd0938gnYW1rutkg3.gif[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181020/8487d53bde95aefd035636685769d205.png[/img] [hr][hr] Tonight he was serving as the personal driver for Lee and Stella’s date; it wasn’t something he as a man was terribly proud of, it wasn’t a job he particularly wanted to do but it paid well. It would do for the short term. He still had a few hours before he needed to make the eight mile drive from his home on the shores of Santa Monica to the glowing McMansions of Beverly Hills. Santa Monica itself wasn’t a bad place, the few blocks that Hyde called home however was not great. It was three blocks of hell on Earth which was overshadowed by a pillar to God. St Patrick’s Cathedral was a monstrous building, old and protected by the gargoyles of lore. It’s visage was terrifying for a place that was supposed to be a house of the lord. It looked terribly out of place in the surf haven of Dogtown. Hyde had a perfect view of it from his basement bedroom. He had hung his boxing bag right next to the window so he could glare at the gothic tower whilst he threw his bombs; it was his version of a confessional. [color=purple]”I’m not sure I can get through to him. He’s so filled with fury and foolish pride. I see his mind burning and his soul stained with the same darkness that took his father. Please, show me a light, show him a light before he is consumed. Forgive him his trespasses and protect him from the temptation”[/color] The floorboards were thin and Hyde could hear every single word of his mother’s prayer. And with every one of those words, the monster threw another uncovered fist at his target. The fresh wounds on his knuckles began to split from the pressure and the white leather of the bag began to become stained with the blood of the violent king. He had nothing against religion, people could believe what they wanted. Hyde was not a believer however, if God was real, how could he let a family like the Hyde’s to exist? Mason Hyde was a murder currently serving multiple life sentences. Julie Hyde was an addict, who was always so desperate to belong that she would do anything it took to feel good about herself. First it was a constant string of boyfriends, then drugs and now the Catholic Church. She was a mess. Drenched in sweat and blood, Cameron ascended the stairs to his mother’s kitchen where she was making yet another failed attempt to cook something fanciful for her son and prove to him she had changed and to earn his forgiveness for the shitty hand they had been dealt. [color=olive]”What is it tonight ma? Beef casserole or salmon fillets? Don’t bother with either I’ll grab something while I’m out, I probably won’t be home til Sunday”[/color] It had gotten to the point where mother Hyde knew that arguing with her son was a fight she was never going to win. [color=purple]”Have you been taking your medication? Sticking to the routine like Doctor Leggett advises?”[/color] [color=olive]”You know I don’t believe a word that quack psychiatrist says. I’m just a little boy who wasn’t hugged enough by his mommy and daddy, I’m gonna shower”[/color] Julie drops her cooking utensils and turns to her son [color=purple]”Why do you do this Cameron? Why do you put me through such hardship?”[/color] [color=olive]”Only God forgives ma”[/color] [hr] There were just enough dive bars in Beverly Hills for it to be trendy and then there were a few that were actually what they said they were; glorified shit holes that no one of a sound mind would find their way to. Hyde found himself in one such place, three drinks deep and with an itchy trigger finger. [color=yellow]”You slinging?”[/color] [color=olive]”Not tonight”[/color] Cam polished off his current drink before continuing. [color=olive]”Come back tomorrow and I’ll set you up”[/color] [color=yellow]”Man, I know you’re carrying, you’re always carrying, give me something”[/color] the addict was getting pushier and closer to the high schoolers face, he reached into his pocket and took hold of something, a fact that Hyde made a note of. Glancing over the addicts shoulder at the group that was amassing at the exit, two men and a woman, smile curled on the lord of dogtowns lips and a fire began to burn in his belly. [color=olive]”Alright, man. I might have something in my car. Follow me”[/color] Putting his glass down onto the pool table, Hyde lead the gang of miscreants out into the parking lot and to his car. The warm, feeling in the pit of his stomach was getting hotter, his skin began to flush and his hears rang. What was this feeling? Fear? Excitement? Both. It was the glow, of course. The glow of violence. Reaching into the truth, he brushed passed a bag of something and gripped a handle tight. In one fluid motion, he span with toolbox in hand and smashed it against the addicts face, knocking him and most of the tools to the floor. Hyde was rushed and tackled into the trunk, hit by several blows to the face as he fell. This did nothing as a deterrent, instead it was further motivation. He kicked off the burly bastard atop him and picked up a hammer from the ground. He was armed and he was dangerous as the addict tried to get to his feet, Cameron brought the trunk lid down across his hand before reaching into his grounded foes pocket and pulling out the knife he had clocked earlier. Hammer in his left, knife in his right and blood weeping from his face and hands he was ready to cause a riot. The distant and all too familiar sounds of sirens were enough to force the attackers to run. Hyde let out a guttural yell [color=olive]”FUCKING PUSSIES! I’m number one”[/color] his voice became a hiss. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to run buts not who he was, he was number one. The two men got away but the woman, she had made the mistake of hiding. It didn’t take long for the devil to find her under the pier. [color=brown]”God help me”[/color] [color=olive]”If God wanted to help you, he wouldn’t have made me”[/color] Hyde threw the knife, it embedded itself in the woman’s thigh and took her to the ground. He was atop her in seconds, one hand on the knife, the other on her throat. [color=olive]”Word to the wise; I’m number one. Tell your friends, they don’t fuck with me. If they try, they’ll get worse than you”[/color] Turning, he grabbed the hammer from his jacket and cracked it across her ankle, muffling her scream with his huge hand. [color=olive]”Ssshh. Say a prayer for me, sweetheart”[/color] [hr] Later in the evening, as he drove further into the night, the Z boy glanced at the clock, it was time to pick up Lee and Stella. His eyes moved upwards and he gazed at his torn up face in the rear view mirror and then brought his eyeline back down to the road, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He paid no mind to his blood stained hands as he pulled up outside the McCarthy mansion and honked the horn. It was time for date night[/centre]