- He felt nothing. He didn't know what he expected, after killing the one who had killed his lover. Relieved? Was he supposed to feel relieved? He didn't. Just numb, and like what he had done was wrong. He still didn't know if it was justified, even now as he watched the rain roll down the window of the motel room he had rented. He watched the drops and imagined that he was the rain, that he was cool and collected, rolling silently down the window pane. Refreshing those around him. That he wasn't as fiery as his veins thrummed he was. He could still feel the adrenaline from the moment. He took no pride in the colorful blood he had washed from his paws when the deed was finished. Nor had he regarded the scorched earth and roiling sky with much of anything but disdain. He had lay there for a while, sitting in the rain after he had killed him. Hoping to feel something, anything in retaliation for what the criminal had done.
Yet he felt nothing. Not an ounce better.
He had hoped once he had gained justice that he would achieve some sense of twisted peace.
but now peace felt the furthest thing from his mind.
vengeance wasn't as gleeful as he had thought it would be. so he simply sat there, watching the rain roil down the glass with an a grieved expression. Until tears strolled down his cheeks in rhythm to the rain beyond his grasp. Nothing would quench the fire in his gut. Nothing could soothe his sorrows.
