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I put a bullet to my mouth and the other guy spit it out.
Current mood:
depressed
Bruce stared into the mirror, at the sickening green glow in his eyes as he struggled to keep the other guy in control. It had been a few months since Doctor Banner had created the Hulk. The two personalities were having a constant battle for control. The anger drove him up a wall as he had fought to understand what had gone wrong in his experiment. The man had tried to stay in New York to live a normal life and forget about the green giant that lived inside him. If only Jolly Green would have stayed dormant. It had taken one drunk fool to set the green rage into a frenzy. The man had accidentally bumped into him at a bar causing the sticky wet drink to splash onto his suit. Before his accident he would have brushed it off, hell he wouldn't have even been in the bar in the first place. The smell of alcohol and the sound of the man's slurred apology had triggered the beast. Bruce had blacked out but the big guy, well he had a blast smashing over half the city. When Hulk had finally calmed down enough to let Banner return to his own form he found himself naked surrounded by rubble of an apartment complex. Sirens of all rescue teams filled the air disorienting him as he struggled to find something to cover himself up with. He had managed to find some poor souls' clothing and shoved them on. If anyone had known he was the hulk he wouldn't have been so lucky to get away. It was at that moment he realized a normal life wasn't for him. And so without a letter of explanation to family or friends he packed his bags and ran. Where? He wasn't sure where he was going but he wanted to be far away. He would have kept running if it weren't for the need for basic human functions. This was where he ended up. Staring at himself in a mirror of a hotel somewhere outside of Salt Lake City Utah. Even here wasn't far enough away from civilization. If the monster in his head decided that he was angry someone else would get hurt. As he looked into his eyes he no longer saw himself. No, he saw a man desperate to stop the pain. A sigh parted from his dry lips as he leaned down to splash cold water on his face. A thought had passed his mind as he was traveling the road. No where was safe for him, where would he go? Doctor Banner was a threat now. His gut twisted with guilt as the images of the destruction he had caused flashed through his mind. Daring not to watch the news. If he did then he'd know how many he had…how many he…he killed. An anger growl now bubbled in his throat. He was a monster, anyone who knew what he was would want him dead. "I should be dead." The thought popped into his mind so suddenly. Depression began to take hold of the once bright mind of the scientist. 'He was born to be a monster.' His father's voice echoed in his head as he pushed himself away from the sink and out of the bathroom. The memories of his own father calling him a monster was enough to drive him mad and yet his father was right the whole time. He was going to destroy the world if he didn't do something now. He barely had control of the big guy. He felt the flame of green rage burning at his insides. It all hurt, there was no way to control the giant within. Clutching his chest he walked over to the bed where he had thrown the gun down he had bought hours before. The small pistol glistened in the moonlight as his mind fought for a way around it. There wasn't an option. No one could help him tame the hulk. Bruce had only seen glimpses of the man's anger and it had started to affect his own temperament. On the small table there was a bottle of Whiskey, as he popped the cap he quickly downed half the bottle. He had ignored the burn in his throat as he choked it down. While he coughed slightly he gently set the bottle on the small wooden table and slipped his stubby hand around the gun. No one was going to miss him. He closed his eyes, bringing the glock up he placed the barrel in his mouth. As he counted down in his head, 3 this was for the best. 2…..the world would be safe. 1…..no longer would he be a monster. With a soft breath he pulled the hammer back and pulled the trigger expecting sweet death to take him away.
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