Fury's Eclipse |

One

"STOP RIGHT THERE, YOUNG MAN!" Dr. Dorothy cried at the top of her lungs, trying very hard to attract the boy's attention and to wake his eyes from its deep sleep but nonetheless, her horrible cries could not stop the boy from throwing her glass name plate onto the floor, where the small pieces of glass shards dispersed from the force and splashed onto his bare shin. "OH, MY GOD! STOP!"

"You, shut. Your. Mouth." He firmly uttered while he opened his eyes which had been closed for the last half an hour. His blue eyes had come to glare at the old woman who thought that she could voodoo with whomever she liked but luck had fallen right out the window when she met her 20 year old patient, Damien Fury Ross. "Now, let me out of this hellhole!" He furiously growled at her face as he neared her shaking figure standing against her door, her glasses were already broken the first time he pushed her to the ground a few minutes ago so she had to squint her wrinkly eyelids to keep alert of any danger coming her way. "Do you hear me, old woman?"

She groaned at the thought of her age. "Yes, boy, I hear you. And no, I will not let you out of here until you complete your session with me calmly and follow what I say." Then sticking her index finger at him, she tutted. "You will always be a psycho if you keep acting like this."

"What," he paused then continued with a quiet voice, "did you just say?"

"I said," she stepped closer with much more confidence, "you shall always stay like a madman until your death bed so I suggest you give up your little charade and let your mania die, right now!"

To her surprise, he smirked at her little figure with a vicious plan evolving in his head. Shattering of glasses and breaking of objects had happened before and not to mention a little blood had escaped as well but what he did next had he never ever done before. He turned around and headed towards the opposite direction and grabbed the metal visitor's chair to throw it at the large window on his right.

"What are you doing, now?!" She was rushing towards the telephone on the wall on her right and urgently called for staff. "I need someone to get here, NOW!"

Without warning, he jumped into the welcoming pathway the broken window had set forth, which of course instead of the red carpet was glass that textured his sandals. The sharp pieces pierced through, some deep enough to prick his sole daringly. Just as his legs were as long as of the fastest horse on Earth, he ran through the numerous amounts of plants and leaves to reach the front gate of Dorothy's psychotherapy building and jumped over its wall which was easily done since a few bin boxes were aligned like stairs against the brick wall.

The next thing he did was to run back to the house the way he had come here on his parent's car. A month of travelling back and forth once a week was enough time to know the way back and Fury being, well, Fury, he remembered every single detail while going to and fro. The last place he wanted to be today was the torturous therapist building with white walls, white chairs, white pens and white people. The amount of white used at Dorothy's therapy was enough and more than enough for Fury. That single color was starting to nag at his eyes and brain and to be away from it right now, was greatly relieving.