Rage

Red and blue lights pierced the moonless nighttime darkness as numerous cop cars and abundances cluttered the street. Police were moving in and out of the house, searching scrupulously for something, mostly around a shattered window. A pair of paramedics came out of the house with a gurney between them. The outline of a body could be seen, but it was covered by a sheet. It obscured the gurney passenger's face as well. Solemn expressions fixed upon their faces, the paramedics wheeled the corpse away. The police,meanwhile, didn't seem to be making any headway in their search.

Two pairs of feet ran frantically along the sidewalk and darted through the various vehicular obstacles lining the street. The couple came to the blockade where an officer was currently attempting to shoo away some onlookers. He stopped his conversation and stepped in front of the two.

"I'm sorry, we can't allow anyone past this point. You'll have to stay-"

"You have to let us through!" One of the two finally caught her breath. "That's our house! Our son is in there!"

As the couple we're escorted onto the crime scene, the police were shocked to find their claim was true. Buried in several shredded pieces of furniture was a baby, covered in blood, but completely unharmed and sleeping peacefully.



Many months later, the baby had grown and was now starting to walk. Police were still inquiring with the family and searching for who might have killed the poor girl, but life was still moving. The parents had, after setting up various security measures, finally decided to go out once more and had found a new babysitter.

"Okay, I left a list of numbers in case you need us, and- OH! and don't let him watch too much TV, and-"

"Mrs. Zunker, please," the new babysitter interrupted, "I've watched kids before. I've got all your instructions right here," he waved a rather long list in his hands, "Anything goes wrong, I'll call right away. I promise."

With much reluctance, the parents finally left their home and child in the hands of the new babysitter. This time, however, they didn't make much further than a few blocks away. The sky flashed red and blue as a cop car rushed by. As the parents would soon learn, history had repeated itself.


The police cars and ambulances were only just beginning to congregate as the couple arrived. Paramedics were already escorting the babysitter to one of the ambulances. He was alive, but badly hurt and bleeding. A large gash was visible across his back. Another paramedic followed behind with something wrapped in his arms. It was the boy, unconscious and scratched up, but overall fine. The couple found nothing stolen and only a few possessions askew, one window broken, and one blood-stained knife. It seemed far too similar to be a coincidence.

Some time later, the parents wound up at the police station, with a video tape in hand. The police had taken interest the moment they mentioned it.

"So," an officer turned the tape over in his hands, "this is a recording of the night?"

"Yes, after the first scare, we set up a bunch of precautions. One of them was a nanny cam, just in case the babysitter was bad."

"This could certainly prove useful. Let's hope that the felon shows up here."

He placed the tape in a VCR and pressed play. The family's living room appeared on the screen. They could hear the baby screaming and crying, but there was no sight of him. The babysitter was in view, but facing the direction the crying was coming from.

"C'mon, kid!" The babysitter sounded really annoyed by the boy, "Look, your parents ain't coming back for awhile so shut up! Ugh, not in the mood for this shi-" He caught himself mid-sentence and looked up to face the camera. "Guess I should take out your folk's little security cam before I start letting the curses fly, huh?" He went right up to the camera and started fiddling with something just outside the camera's view. "Just gotta remember to delete what's already been said."

There was a crash. Undoubtedly the window shattering. The babysitter looked up, muttered a "What the-" and had his head slammed into the camera. He screamed and the screen went fuzzy. It didn't wind up helping much.


Years went by and the incidents passed. The police never found out who had entered the house and attacked the boy's babysitters, or why the boy had been left unharmed. The couple, fearing another invasion of their home, moved away to a new neighborhood where the boy could grow up peacefully. As they had hoped, many years did passed peacefully and without further incident.

Then came the boy's first day of school. The boy had said most days were "normal", but his parents could tell something was bothering him. The school finally called them in one day.


The parents sat across the school's principle. He was reading silently from a report while the parents waited silently. After some time he looked up, a blank expression on his face, and said, "I... don't really know what to make of this Mr. and Mrs. Zunker."

"I'm sorry, Principle Demus," the father interjected, "but we're not quite sure why we're here. All we were told was that something happened with our son and an older kid."

The principle's gaze had returned to the documents on his desk. "...Yes. It seems that one of the 3rd graders, John Rocca, a well-known bully among the halls... um... met your son in the bathrooms."

"Our son was was beaten up!?" the mother this time.

"Erm, no, actually. No exactly. We found them both passed out on the floor. Your son was fine, a few bruises, but John was covered in deep cuts. It looked like he had been attacked and scratched by a wild animal." The parents went pale. "We questioned your son about it when he woke up. From what we can tell, John started picking on him, something that we understand has been happening for quite some time, until your son stood up for himself. After some argument, John got angry and punched him, then he says he blacked out. He couldn't remember anything from then until he woke up. John says he doesn't recall anything much after that either. He went to leave and then was attacked. He says he couldn't see who did it. Do either of you know what might have happened?"

Both parents were silent. The incident from all those years ago was replaying in their minds, but now with a new perspective. Maybe their house hadn't been broken into. Maybe the babysitter hadn't been attacked by a stranger. The same words passed through both their minds: It couldn't be...



"Do you really think he's-"

"He's just a boy! There's no way he could have attacked all these people!"

"But, they never found anyone. They never found so much as a fingerprint."

"He's our son!"

"If he is doing this, we have a responsibility to do something about it. Maybe... just... take some precautions at least."

"How? We don't even know what's going on. Oh god, we might have to turn him in!"

"No, no, it's okay, everything will be okay... let's just think. With the second babysitter, he was crying, right? And he had that bully terrorizing him. Maybe it's just when he's mad or upset. I know he didn't seem to want to talk with us about the bully, but... what if we get him an emotional outlet, someone he could talk to no matter what?"

"Like what?"

They turned as they heard their son laughing just outside the window. He was playing with a small puppy. It was the happiest they had seen him since he had started school...



Yet more years passed. The boy grew into a young man, his puppy companion grew into a large dog, and the parents never had to deal with another incident. Just as they had hoped their son and the dog were near inseparable. The son was always happiest when he got to play with his dog. It just made it all the harder when the first day of college came.

***

There was a certain sense of loneliness in walking down the quiet, empty corridor toward his dorm room for the first time. His parents were gone, his dog was gone... but he had wanted this. His parents argued with him until the bitter end about his attending college, and he knew why. He knew better than they did. All he wanted was to live a normal life and that wouldn't happen if he was sheltered at home forever. Besides, no one here would know about what happened when he was just a kindergartner. That had certainly set him back in the friends department. No one wanted to know a guy who savaged a bully four years older than he was. So long as he could find some friends here, he would be fine. He was sure.

He reached the room assigned to him. It had a little sign in the style of a monopoly card. Just the RA's cute little way of letting everyone know who lived in this room. It read:

Michael Zunker
Aaron Paulson

Him and his roommate... He had sent a few e-mails back and forth over the summer in preparation of their imminent living situation. He sounded nice...

Michael opened the door and stepped into his new home for the first time. He was never much to spend time out of his home. It was a comfort for him. He would have to do the same with his dorm room and make himself comfortable. It would be important, he knew.

Whenever it was coming on, he could feel it. He could fight it, though. At home he would head to his room, play with his dog and relax in the comfort he could find until it went away. This room would have to suffice.

His roommate wasn't present at the moment, but his stuff had already been set up. Michael's stuff meanwhile, had been tossed onto the spare bed by the RA's who had helped all the students get their stuff to their rooms. Most everyone else had retired to their respective rooms by now, he figured he may as well just get his stuff where he liked it and go to bed for the night then.

He didn't have much; some clothes, a couple books, a few games, just stuff to keep himself occupied. On his desk, he placed a picture of his family, something to hopefully help keep things under control. His mother, father, and dog gave him their reassuring smiles as he threw his blanket over himself and drifted off to sleep.


He almost thought he was dreaming the voices. It was when they became too loud to be from his own head that he realized. He could hear them clearly. They were just outside the door.

"C'mon, did you see me? I was the MAN! Those frat guys must've been stunned to see my pong skills. I swear it was the only worthwhile thing I learned in high school."

It went on for some time. Michael looked over at his clock: 3:30 AM. The braggart eventually stopped when his friends wanted to go to sleep. Michael was hoping against hope now. The door slammed open and Michael's head throbbed painfully. He just wanted to go back to sleep...

"Hey dude," he pushed Michael's arm. The smell of beer filled the air. It made sense... "Dude wake up. We gotta get to know each other, Roomie."

"Tomorrow," Michael managed to muster the energy to say, "Tryin' to sleep."

"Have it your way," Aaron went over to his stuff and turned on a lava lamp. The room was bathed in orange light. Michael's head throbbed again.

"Hey," he dragged himself upright and into full consciousness, "That thing is kinda bright. Would you mind keeping it off at night?"

"Haha, no way bro. Now that I'm on my own, I'm livin' large." He managed to cross the room with a rather awkward gait. "This is just the first step! Just turn away and face the wall if it bothers you that much."

Michael wanted to complain more. The guy was drunk and being unfair, but his head was pounding. Best to just let it go for now. If it went too far... He would talk about it with Aaron in the morning, and hope that he was a bit easier to reason with while sober.

He dreamt of blood.

***

Michael was disappointed to find over the next few days that his roommate's personality didn't change much with his sobriety. The lava lamp argument went on, and other instances of Aaron's self-centered behavior cropped up. It became a routine. Aaron stumbled in sometime past 2 AM, started playing whatever (in Michael's opinion) godawful music he had handy and then called his girlfriend to brag about how well he was doing, especially at beating his friends in games. During the day, he would invite his friends over to check out his room (he always made a point of showing them the lava lamp) and would sit down with them to watch whatever the sports world currently had to offer. It almost seemed to Michael that they were louder than Aaron's music (a feat that very few could accomplish). Micheal continued his protests as calmly as he could manage, but Aaron held the upper hand. Michael had a short fuse when it came to those who were being unreasonably selfish. He had to stop any time the argument became too heated. At night, when the glowing orange light and booming rap music kept him awake, it left him a bit depressed, knowing he wouldn't be able to win against Aaron, but he reassured himself.

He had picked this college for a reason. It was only about an hour away from his home. If ever things got too bad, he had his safety net. He could go home where his dog would eagerly be waiting for him. It wasn't a huge comfort while he was stuck in the assaulting inferno of light, but it kept him from losing himself.


Today, he knew, would be good. No matter what Aaron would do, he would finally get to meet his friend today. He was the son of one of Michael's parent's friends and currently a senior. They had met a few times on occasion while younger, and later had attended the same high school for a year. They had been fairly close, and when the time came for Michael to go to college, there was a little extra incentive to attend this one. He now waited out in the school's courtyard for his friend to arrive.

He gave Michael a smile as he approached. "Mikey! It's been so long, man!"

"Hi Drake," Michael cracked a smile at their routine greeting, "and it's Michael if you don't mind."

"Of course, how's college life treating you?"

Michael stayed lost in thought for a minute, trying not to let on that his roommate was already making his life miserable and constantly leaving him sleep deprived. He was starting to get worried what would happen when classes actually started.

"Say no more," Drake brought him out of his reverie, "I know the 'I got stuck with an asshole of a roommate' look when I see it."

"...yeah."

"Hey, cheer up. Look, I've got a bit of pull with the housing department- don't ask how- but how about I see what I can do for you?"

"Really?" Michael nearly jumped for joy.

"Hah, I'm not about to let a buddy rot with some idiot. If we're lucky, we might be able to get you a single. Then you won't have to worry about-"

"Yo Mike!" came a voice that now caused an involuntary twitch of Michael's eye. Aaron seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Odd," he whispered to Drake, "I can usually hear him coming through 5 inches of concrete." Drake stifle a chuckle.

"Hey man," he placed his hand on Michael's shoulder, and completely ignored Drake, "Listen, my girlfriend is coming over tonight. You don't mind if we take the room for a bit do you?"

"Um," Michael knew how this was going to end. He didn't even know why he was trying, "Actually, if you don't mind, I would really-"

"C'mon! She barely ever gets to come down. You don't do much in the room anyway. You could read your books anywhere! Look, I'll set you up with some of my buds, alright? They'll make sure you're taken care of. See ya after tonight then, alright?" He left in a hurry as Michael clutched his forehead.

"Real favor you're doing me there, you asshole," he muttered, "I doubt those idiot friends of yours could so much as form a sentence that doesn't involve sports."

"Hey, don't let him get you down, Michael," this time Drake put his hand on Micahel's shoulder. "It doesn't sound like he's gonna budge on the issue. Why don't we hang out tonight? I'll head over to housing sometime today too, and we can see if they'll do anything for you."

"Y-yeah... okay..." Michael mumbled and left dejectedly. The smile never left Drake's face.


***

The day came and went and night was upon Michael before he knew it. Aaron had already left to go pick up his girlfriend and Michael was expected to be gone by the time they got back. Though, there was just something wrong to Michael in the thought of his sanctuary being closed off to him.

“It’ll be alright,” he kept telling himself, “Drake’ll come by, we’ll go hang out, it’ll all be fine.”

He wandered down the hall with what possessions he felt would be needed for the next couple couple hours or so. The hall was quiet. It was already fairly late and most were off to bed in hopes they could get on a decent sleep schedule for, at the very least, the first day of classes.

“Lucky them,” Michael thought, “None of them have a roommate that throws them out late at night within four days of their living here.”

He waited down by the door to his dorm. Drake said he would be by soon…

The silence was shattered as Michael’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Michael?” It was Drake, but something was wrong, Michael knew. Drake respected him enough to call him Michael, as he preferred, but he always started a conversation by calling him Mike or Mikey at least once. If he didn’t, it was something serious. “Listen man, I tried. I really did. I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t get them to budge on the issue. The just refuse to move a freshman so soon. They say you have to work it out with your roommate.”

“That’s… It’s okay, Drake. I can keep trying to work things out. And thanks for asking for me, but… there’s something else isn’t there? You sound way too depressed for it to just be about that.”

“…I’m really sorry, man.”

“What is it?”

“My family just called with an emergency. I have to go home for a few days... which means we can't hang out. I’m sorry.”

Michael’s grip on the phone tensed. He couldn’t be mad at his friend at all. It was a family emergency, not his fault. But now, just like that, he had nowhere to go. He knew no one well enough to ask them, especially at this hour.

They talked a bit more. Michael went through what social routines he knew, hoping his emergency wasn't too bad and reassuring his friend that he would be alright. The latter was a lie, but he didn’t want his friend to worry.


Michael trudged back to his room. He was tired and his head hurt. All he wanted was to lie in his bed and relax right now. Maybe his roommate would understand.

He tried the doorknob. It was locked. In the few minutes he had been gone, Aaron and his girlfriend had slipped into the room.

They were already violating it, Michael knew. His sanctuary, his one place of comfort, tainted and raped. His bastard of a roommate couldn’t even allow him a bit of decency.

He sat down in front of his door in the silent hall. His forehead throbbed with pain.

He knew that idiot would do something like this eventually. Why had he let him do it? Why hadn’t he just… just…

His vision briefly became unfocused as his head throbbed again.

It was like a dawning realization in Michael’s mind. All these things that had happened were being put into perspective. It wasn’t enough that the bastard had made his room hostile; he had to cut off access to Michael. In Aaron’s eyes, the room was his and no one else’s.

His head felt like it was about to split open. He clutched his forehead and waited.

***

Some time later, the door finally opened. The girlfriend was the first to emerge. Her shirt was still askew, but she was a bit too busy to notice, what with her having Aaron trying to follow her without their lips losing contact. Michael simply sat with his head in his knees by the door. Surprisingly, Aaron turned his attention away from his current endeavors.

“Mike? What the hell are you doing just sitting there?”

Michael just gave a small groan.

“Hah, buddy, why didn’t you just go ask someone to hang out? Next time do that instead of hanging out in front of the door all night. It’s kinda creepy, actually, knowing that you’re just outside listening to us. Anyway, I’ll be back in an hour or so, don’t stay up all night, now.” He bolted down the hall after his girlfriend.

Michael’s fist clenched until blood was starting to drip down his knuckles. He slammed his fist into the wall in anger. Several chips of the stone wall came loose. This wasn’t good.

Michael was losing his hold on consciousness. Things were all wrong. It was like he was looking in at the world from outside his mind. His body was only just barely responding to him.

He stumbled his way into the room and tripped into his desk. There was a noise of breaking glass. He couldn’t see it, but his mind made the connection: the picture frame.

His mind just made out another noise. It was his phone. He didn’t know why, maybe just because all his body could reliably go on at this point was instinct, but he answered the phone.

“H’lo?” he feebly managed.

“Um, hi there. My name is Adam Keane, I’m calling about a dog named… Buddy?”

Something clicked in Michael’s mind. His vision was losing focus fast, but the phone was coming in loud and clear.

“I found your dog,” the stranger continued, “and I didn’t really know what to. I mean there were a couple of numbers on the tag, so I just called the first one.”

The room had begun to spin. He was breathing very heavily. Michael managed a weak “Wh’t?” It was almost a growl…

“I’m… I’m really sorry. I found him in the road outside my house. He was hit by a car and… he died. I’m sorry.”

There was a loud crack as the phone hit the floor. A moment later, there was a thud as Michael joined it.

***

Aaron came back around his usual time, doing his usual routine of talking loudly on his phone. Even after his girlfriend had hopped on the train, they didn’t break their communication for a second, despite having run out of decent conversation material. Right now they were running through the lists of their various likes and dislikes. When he reached the door, Aaron finally had to concede to his fatigue.

“Okay…okay… listen… yeah… no, listen, I gotta get some sleep. I am wiped out. Yeah, I know, you definitely had a hand in that tonight. We have to hang up though. Don’t want the little bitch in my room to go on another rant about how horrible I am. Haha. Okay, I love you, too. Bye.”

He opened the door slowly. It always made this sticking noise, but Aaron had agreed for Michael’s sake to try to open it slower so it wouldn’t be so loud.

Something was off, he noticed. The room was pitch-black. He made his way over to his desk.

“Little fucker turned off my lamp again…” he thought as he crossed the room. There was a small crunch underfoot. “Glass? Aww, it’s all wet too! He smashed my lava lamp!?”

He went to look over at Michael’s bed when something big wrapped around his face. Time seemed to slow down, but even so, it all happened too fast for it to be real. Aaron’s head was slammed into the ground. He felt a warmth where shards of glass had met his face and he passed out.

***

A loud, low snarl woke Aaron. The first thing he realized, his arms and legs were bound to a chair. His face, he felt, was bleeding freely. He was in a dark basement room… he knew this place…

“Remember it yet?” the darkness growled at him.

“Huh? Who’s there? What’s happening? Tell me!” His voice was frantic.

“I said, do you remember this room, Aaron?” the voice grew deeper, more distorted.

“I-I’ve been here before.”

“Right. You were the one to show it to me, remember?” Aaron stayed silent. There was no way… “As we explored our new home one day, you showed me this very room. Told me it would be ‘a great place if you didn’t want anyone to find you.’ Quite right you were. The basement of a dorm that no one uses, thick stone walls… Goodness knows why you decided one day to come day here, but it came in handy, I must say.”

“Who’s there?” Aaron tried again. He couldn’t think of whom he had shown this place to, but he wasn’t interested in reminiscing about worthless things. “Why are you doing this?”

“Ah,” the darkness replied, “Yes, I suppose it is time for an introduction. I have been waiting quite some time, after all.”

Aaron saw the mouth before anything else. It was a horrible collection of sharp, pointed teeth that was curved into something that resembled a smile. It looked like it was a struggle for the muscles surrounding them to keep them so still. It was a part of something that could loosely be compared to that of a dog’s muzzle, but somewhat warped.

The eyes screamed at him from above the huge jaw. They were an intense, piercing blue. They seemed to glow so bright that Aaron wondered how he didn’t see them before. They had the effect of unsettling every single one of Aaron’s nerves.

Nothing about that face could be called human.

Aaron risked the venture one more time. Gulping loudly, he said in a near whisper, “Who are you?”

The smile faded into a simple smirk. “Why Aaron,” it said in a mocking tone, and tilting its head to one side, “don’t tell me you don’t recognize your dear little roommate.”

“Michael!?”

“There we go. Though, I suppose that’s not exactly true.”

“W-what’s going on?”

“Patience, Aaron. I will certainly inform you of your situation.” he ran a finger over Aaron’s cheek. It wasn’t so much a finger, Aaron noticed, as a claw. “After all, I do owe you a sort of debt. It’s so infrequent that I get to get out and stretch my legs.” He retreated back into the darkness. A moment later, a small lamp above Aaron’s head pierced the darkness and illuminated the beast.

He stood well above seven feet tall and had a physique to match that of a bodybuilder. His arms and legs were large and muscled and had a good amount of hair to cover them. His hands, as Aaron had seen before, were like claws, the nails elongated and thickened. The feet also matched with nail-claws that could shame a wolf.

The creature had clothes, though badly tattered. Aaron recognized it from a little while ago. They were the same ones that Michael had been wearing. It couldn’t be…

“What are you?” Aaron tried.

The beast thought about it for a minute, “In the past, I have been called a werewolf, compared to something known as a ‘hulk,’ but they pale in comparison to me. You see,” he leaned in close to Aaron’s face, “I am something they are not. Intellect. Logic. I may act upon emotion, but I carry them out with tact. Before I was even one year old, I managed to frame an imaginary man for a murder I committed. Later, before I could so much as speak a word, I made another attack and framed the same man. Something a werewolf could never contemplate. Truly, though, I do not know what I am exactly. Nor do I care. I am that part of Michael’s consciousness that comes out when he grows angry and depressed. I am the form he wishes he could have when he desires revenge, but by no means am I the Michael you know.”

Beads of sweat started to form on Aaron’s brow, “What are you trying to do to me?”

The beast took another pause, “Michael tries to keep me suppressed. He doesn’t like what I do when I come out. You see, I am not bound by petty ‘morals.’ I act on the emotions Michael has just before I break free, whatever that might entail. He wants to stand up to someone, I make sure they know their place. He wants someone to pay, I make sure they do.”

The beast gave a small chuckle. It had no mirth to it. It was a laugh that brought fear to mind. “The worthless imbeciles that pass for Michael’s parents thought they could contain me. They were on the right track, I believe. They feared that something like me was lurking in their son, so Michael grew up with extra support from his parents. They made sure never to make him angry. They even adopted a pet dog for Michael to love. Fools! Did they think a boy could go his entire life without so much as a hint of anger, a shade of depression?

“I roamed freer than they thought. The difference was that I learned. I kept it secret. I made my attacks, killed Michael’s prey, all without notice from anyone important. When I had them alone… oh, what I wouldn’t do to satisfy the bloodlust Michael had bestowed unto me!” The beast began to circle around Aaron in a slow pace. There was something unnerving in the way he moved. “I’ve clawed men to shreds, torn their bodies asunder,” He swooped down until the soulless blue eyes were level with Aaron’s, “I’ve devoured full-grown men.” The beast ran a claw over Aaron's face again, this time drawing blood. He pulled away and began his pacing again. Aaron was shaking, sweat was pouring down his face. He was at the mercy of this beast.

“Which now leads me to only one question: what to do with you, my little friend?" he let the blood dance around his finger, "All Michael has given me is the desire to see you dead, and I’ve got 1001 ways to do that.”

“This is insane!” Aaron burst out, “T-that fucker just couldn’t take living with a roommate and now I have to suffer!? It was a fucking lava lamp! And some loud music! No roommates in the history of roommates got this pissed off over something so stupid!”

The beast stayed calm. Not a single muscle twitched out of place, not a single glimmer of anger in the eyes. “That’s not up to me, I’m afraid. I do not create the emotions, I do not care where they originate. If I had to guess though, I’d say you were being unjust and self-centered. Michael just hates that. And I love him for it.

“Ah, but I do believe we have tarried on a bit too long. The night only lasts just so long and I still have quite a bit of work to do. Oh, and by the way, thank you for sharing the information about how you are not very close with your parents. It makes things so very easy.”

“No! Wait-” Aaron saw the beast’s teeth move once, and saw nothing more.

***

The sun filtered in to Michael’s room through the tangled blinds. He gave a groan and lifted his head off the cold floor.

He froze as memories surged back into the forefront of his mind. He didn’t want to, he just wanted to go back to sleep now, but he looked around the room. There was the shattered picture frame, the glass gathered in a neat pile now, but everything else was wrong.

Aaron’s stuff was gone. Nothing left. Not even a trace of clothing. The lava lamp, he knew, at some point it had been shattered, but there was no trace of it now.

He looked down at himself. His clothes were in tatters, barely held together at this point. His hands were shaking and…

They were spotted red.

He could taste it in his mouth, too. Blood. It had happened again.

Michael collapsed back onto the floor and curled into the fetal position. He couldn’t move himself, couldn’t think about anything else. It had happened again.

Michael closed his eyes and sobbed as quietly as he could. It had happened again…



Just outside the door, Drake was waiting, leaning against the wall the Michael had sat in front of last night. He heard it now. The gentle sobs of a man defeated.

His friend was crying. Broken, but unable to let himself delve too deeply into depression. His friend was more miserable than he had ever been in his life and yet the smile never left Drake’s face.