Hurt: Chaper 1.
#1 of "Hurt" Series
I'm going to go ahead and put a disclaimer here. This story may contain content that is unsuitable for underage readers. This includes, but is not limited to, Murder, cursing, Sex, blood and Gore, use of alcohol, drugs, and self-harm. If this is not your thing, GET OUT NOW! For those of you who proceed, this story may have a good or bad ending. I have yet to decide which. The format that this will be posted in will also be subject to change, as I'm currently having to switch between a computer and a kindel fire. As a result, some posts may be walls of text, while others may be spaced out. All that said, lets begin.////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Pain. That's the first thing he felt when he woke up. A skull cracking headache that punished him for the previous night's events. Yep, he thought to himself, that shot was one too many. Rolling out of bed, he tries to stand, instantly regretting that choice as he half stumbles, half runs to the bathroom. After vomiting for a solid five minutes, he flushes the toilet and turns on the sink to wash his muzzle. His own reflection stares back at him in the mirror. A spotted hyena, light brown fur with darker brown spots scattered over his body. His face was gaunt and dark circles formed under his eyes, bloodshot and glazed over. Yeah, he looked like hell, but the fuck was he supposed to do about it? Eh? Go drink some more? Go buy a Hooker to relieve some stress? Maybe go to a shrink? Complain for a few hours for them to tell him to sleep more and drink less. Fuck that. He opens a cabinet beside the mirror and pulls out a bottle of painkillers, popping two into his mouth and swallowing. The hyena then walk out of the bathroom and over to a desk with a computer. Logging on and waiting for the system to start up. A synthesized female voice comes through the speakers "Welcome, Hondo Adara. Please wait while your inbox is accessed." A new window opens on the screen, displaying three new messages. He knew where two were from. One was a paycheck from his employer at a club, the other an invite to another party. The last message was from another User. He opened it and read about how it was a boy from the part last night. Apparently, Hondo owed the kid $50 from a bet. Yeah, he remembers now. The eighteen year old lizard. Bet he could smoke three cigarettes with only one drag each in a row. The kid won. Hondo sighs and stands, closing down the computer and walking to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black flannel. He might as well pay the kid. At least it will get him out of the house for a while. He slips on his boots and walk to the door, pausing to grab a butterfly knife from his drawer before stepping out the door of his flat into the warm Los Angeles air.