Chapter 56: Emotions.
"We have roasted chicken, with mashed potatoes, we also have grilled salmon and vegetables." The chef spoke as Pablo and Joseph sat down at the dining table, and well, they didn’t really listen much to them, they straight jumped into devouring the plates in front of them.
Though Joseph himself had some thoughts while he was eating, thoughts that were just cooping everything in him.
Somehow, in a very strange way, he felt like his morality was coming back, he felt remorse, but at the same time not. It was a strange feeling as he ate the chicken, as he was chewing it, and the same time that smell hit his nose... the blood, the memory flashback of Ivanka in front of him, how he slammed her so much that she became nothing but an unrecognizable piece of mangled flesh... the ways of how Trevor and Albert just died and the blood poured out of their heads... yeah, the way how two officers were just ripped by those bullets fired at them.
Feelings that were pushed down in himself, feelings that were chained down deep within him, but now it felt like these feelings just wanted to come up... like wanted to remind him who he was once, that this is not him, but just a shell of the darkness that embedded him, the darkness which he embraced for that ten years, with only one thing.
Anger.
The one feeling that was true for him, the one feeling that cared for him, was that. Anger at what happened to him, anger that was just bubbling in them all the time... anger that was an unstable force, the feeling that didn’t let him off himself... now the anger that became himself. No, it was more than that back in the prison... that anger formed into something else... it broke to pieces just as Julian talked about it... and from that shattered piece, it built itself up.
To something more dangerous, something more twisted.
It wasn’t just anger anymore, not the anger that back then, it screamed, it burned, it kept him alive but now, it had changed. It no longer shouted in his head or made him shake, it just sat there, deep inside, always watching, always waiting. It had learned how to wear a calm face, how to smile while everything inside him burned. And that’s what made it worse. Because this thing, whatever it became it didn’t care anymore. It didn’t feel guilt, or shame, or even hate. It took his pain and turned it into something useful. It dug deep into every part of him until it became harder and harder to tell where the anger ended and he began.
A man who no longer cried, or begged, or hoped. Just existed and yet, somewhere beneath it all, hidden so deep he wished he couldn’t hear it, was a small voice, soft, almost forgotten whispering a question he didn’t want to face ’Is this really who you are?’ and every time the voice came, he crushed it.
Julian was right about it too, the voice in Joseph’s head, those voices were loud, screaming at him... but the voice was not the voice of madness, the voice of a demon, or whatever people say that is evil... no.