Captain

Waking A Beast (Victor)

His fist swung forward, hitting the punching bag with full force. The rigidness of the punching bag's surface rattled through his arm bruising his bare fist. He drove his other fist into the bag hard, piercing it with every bit of anger that was simmering through his veins. He repeated the action over and over again, feeling the pain sear through his flesh but he sought all of it. He needed it or else. His arms felt like it was being pulverized. His knuckles were bloody but the sheer unyielding rage inside him needed an outlet.

Knox, that son of a bitch. That sly piece of shit. There was a line someone shouldn't cross. There's just something someone shouldn't even think of doing. How the fuck did the man even conjure the thought to do something as heinous as this?  

A ping came from his phone on the gym bench next to them causing Victor to stop mid-way in another brutal assault on the punching bag. Sweat rolled down his bare back to curve through carefully constructed muscles that rippled into place as he straightened from his boxing stance. His shoulders relaxed and he exhaled the fury inside him like it was smoke clogging his lungs but the anger was coursing through his veins. He glared at the phone hoping to the high heavens it was who he wanted it to be. 

His dear, newly found fling Sandra. 

Victor kicked the bench and it collapsed on its side sending the phone straight to the floor along with his water bottle and towel. His hands formed a fist as he walked towards the device. He could see his sweaty naked chest being reflected from the dark screen and his crinkled bitter expression filled to the brim with rage. His fingernails sunk into his palms. He glared down at it, getting more and more agitated by the second. The phone pinged as if life was being poured into it from that simple notification and the screen sprung to life with words he would have found, cute and sexy but now they caused unceasing, debilitating, mind-numbing anger. He wanted to find Knox and beat the living shit out of him. He needed to knock whatever amusement he was getting from this sick joke off his face because if he didn't, if he fucking didn't, god knows he was going to murder any innocent bystander.

He didn't even want a fucking explanation, because no matter what the man was going to say, there wasn't any justification for this shit. There was zero. Victor turned to the punching bag and thrusted his fist into the material. His plans were just decimated, just like that into thin fucking air. His heart pounded in his chest hard, agreeing with his turmoil. At least, when an enemy soldier fucked with him on the front lines in such a cruel way, he could kill them with one bullet to the brain. He could justify murder but this was Knox, his comrade and lieutenant.

Fuck, he was pissed. He turned around, dropped down to take up his water bottle, and poured it over his face. The droplets splashed to the ground. The cold contents made him shiver a little but it calmed the hot fiery impulse that would lead to blood. He sat on the opposing bench to the one that was turned over. Victor was still trying to find the reason. He had only two guesses as to why Knox would even do this. The Knox he knew couldn't come up with this on his own. It was simple. The man was built without even a lick of sensible conductive ideas. In short, he was an idiot.

Victor remembered meeting Knox for the first time. He had been promoted to a training Sergent, then assigned a team of rookies. The news hadn't been easy to swallow. He didn't survive the battlefield to be shoved into babysitting but he sucked it up and carried out his duties. 

They had all just been kids right out of high school, fresh, unknowing and doomed. They had been wide-eyed, pumped on sugarcoated propaganda and filled with hopeless innocence. The most pitiful of them all had been Knox. As soon as he stepped into the training room, Victor had seen him first.  It didn't take a genius to see that Knox was taking his last breath on a war front. 

Seeing his brown eyes brighter than the sun and his hair pulled back under his beret, had jilted him a little. He was just a fledging boy knowing nothing of what evil and hell waited out there. The dumb fucking determination and confidence reflected on his face would lead to his demise. Victor remembered it switching something off inside him and triggering the pain of loss he had endured for years. At one point, he had been just like this, barely filling out his uniform, just scrawny and high off adrenaline.

His words had been harsh but necessary. It wasn't anything compared to what the military was going to throw them into but that was where the war between him and Knox began. Victor didn't despise Knox, no, it was quite the opposite. It was a grievance more so. It was a displeasure he had for how the boy dared to join the military for money of all things, as if his life was worth the few measly coins they threw at them. It had been insulting yet pitiful. 

Knox had always been short on respect for his seniors but he was short in everything too. An average foot soldier that was meant to be a stepping stone. Victor had developed a sort of indifference for the man, no longer too intrigued by his challenging tone, or his blatant attitude at inconvenient times.

Victor reached down for the phone. He opened his messages and pressed the keyboard. Something inside Victor cooled. The anger was simmering below the surface but confronting the man about it wasn't the way. He stared coldly at the screen as he typed in his reply. The screen reflected in his eyes as he set up his stage. Playing with him must have been fun up until now. He probably had a laugh or two with his members. 

Victor didn't join the military for money. He didn't join the military for awards and acknowledgement. He joined it for control. He joined for control over himself because there was a looming, bloodthirsty, dangerous beast under his skin since he was born. A wrath he had under unyielding control, until now. Knox had tested him one too fucking times, like a dog searching for death. Victor was about to show Knox how to really screw someone over since he needed a good and proper lesson. Victor was willing to show him. 

He pressed send on his message and smiled as the screen glowed into his face. He squeezed the phone tight, threatening to break it. 

 If it was a game the bastard wanted to play, then so be it. He just hoped it didn't end with him shoving a gun down the piece of shit's mouth.