Art drawn by the awesomely talented  Barrin84

Story Written by me.

Part One Here http://www.furaffinity.net/view/7369531



But, for some reason, I refused to back down. This thing was making my life a living hell. It was ruling over me due to my fear. A fear I found to be nearly laughable now that I was facing down the thing that so frightened me. All it was doing was snarling and snapping it’s teeth while keeping out of reach. Surely I could take this thing down if it was nothing more than bark and had no bite. So I stepped forward and lifted my pathetic weapon to attack, only to realize that this monster, this thing, is a part of who I am and should be welcomed into my life, not shunned or locked away. It’s the very thing that gave me the power to get up and keep fighting even with bullet holes in my shoulder, gut, and chest. This very thing kept me going when a bullet to the heart should have killed me. Kept me going when that same bullet lodged in my spine and should have kept me from even standing. So, instead of fighting it, I dropped my weapon and embraced it’s existence. I allowed it to fully become a part of me.

When I woke up the whole world was different. I noticed the things that I had missed. How some people stood out in the crowd while all the rest faded to grey. I was drawn towards these people. The new ally I had spurred me to follow some of the more colorful people. I decided to trust it, giving it trust that it knew what it was doing. Only to have that trust be well placed as I followed a lion to his home. Turns out he was a Purist. A pure blooded fur that hated all mixed species, something I was actually proud of being. He had victims locked away in his basement. A Neko girl, half human half K-9, bound and chained, nude, to the wall, used as a sex slave. A rabbit/bear fur curled on his side in the corner, bound and gagged, used as a punching bag for the lion to take out his aggressions. I could see the looks in their eyes, begging for freedom, or death, whichever I preferred to give them, they weren’t picky. But I decided to give them something a little more.

The sound of his neck snapping after beating him to a bloody pulp was like music to my ears. Dear lord did it feel good to end that miserable felines life with my own two hands. To stop him from doing any more harm to anyone else. To see the life leave his eyes and to hear his heart make that final pump. It was enough to snap me out of the haze I was in. I had just taken a persons life. Not in self defense for myself or another, but in revenge for the people he had made to suffer. I had made him suffer the wrath that his victims could never show.

That’s when it all clicked together perfectly. That’s when I felt the true power of my Wrath. It was born not out of irrational anger towards all things, but of pure directed anger towards a single thing. The thing in which no one should have the right to have. The power to take another persons life. I had just taken a persons life and took that power away from him forever more. That is the true power of Wrath. It’s not to mindlessly kill and hurt, but to grant the strength to stop others from mindlessly hurting people.

So I say unto you, those that believe the Sin of Wrath is evil. Which would you rather have? Someone who kills innocent people for fun, or someone who takes away that power so they can never again use it? In the one hand, you have a person who is destined for hell. A person that doesn’t care what happens to you, your friends, or your children. A person that only cares about his own sick pleasures. In the other, you have a person that kills not for personal gain, not for his own amusement, but to rid the world of the very things that made him what he is today. He too is destined for hell. But at least he’ll take as many of the real life monsters with him before he goes.

So, which will it be? Do I leave your life in the hands of someone that will kill you, or do you allow me to wipe this scum from the face of the earth?

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The power of Wrath has certainly been useful, like being on a constant adrenaline high. It’s increased my dexterity to the point where my hands can make a blade sing, a gun dance, and my mind capable of near precognitive actions. My strength has increased immeasurably and I now have few equals among the normal masses. My speed leaves others in the dust while I can run for miles without getting winded. My fighting has become more savage, while at the same time has a grace and poise that’s more akin to a dancer. I’ve traveled through icy mountains, across desert tundra’s, and even sailed the sea. All in the pursuit of just one thing. My next fight with the scum that invest the face of the planet.

It’s become clear to me now. I’ve become the very thing I was trying to avoid. A monster. A monster that kills other monsters, but a monster all the same. Can I truly live with what I am and what I’ve done? No, I can’t. I’ve done too much, lost too much. I’ve forgone everything. My life is nothing but one long endless nightmare. What friends do I have? Who can I trust? Is there even anyone left close enough to me that I can confide in? How could I have been so blind as to forget that I must live a life as well? I’m utterly alone in this world with nothing but my own thoughts to comfort me. I need to find a way to live again. To rejoin society and perhaps have a modicum of peace in my troubled mind. Perhaps I can help people, rather than just wiping out those with stained souls. Maybe, just maybe, there will be someone out there that I can start putting my love into, instead of sharing my hate. But until then, I must do what I can to simply survive with what I’ve become.