[Sodium_noir] Titus Bane, the next night

[eugene mcfadden]

Another sunset, another rise.

Titus Khan, Lord of China Town, master to the Tongs, Templar of the Sabbat.  
All these things and still he couldn’t look his reflection in the eye.  
Titus, standing there, leaning hard `gainst the sink, plucking up courage to 
look at himself, to look at the creature he had let himself become.  To look 
at the non existent reflection in the mirror.

Johnny Cash playing on the radio: Hurt.

'I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real '

Titus hurt himself today, just to get the fuck out of his mood, just to get 
himself together enough to bother to put up his front and go out there into 
the world and do the only thing he could do.

His knuckles still bled from where he punched up the bathroom, sticking his 
fists through the walls and not even feeling it.  Going straight through the 
wall and out the other side and having it lessen not one drop of his self 
loathing. He felt the power in his veins and knew he’d gotten stronger, had 
been getting stronger these last few nights.  He felt the power and hated 
himself for it.  Hated everything he’d become, everything he did.  Hated his 
bones, his flesh, his skin, his soul.  Hated everything.  Hated Estoban.

He didn’t even realise he was punching out again, kicking, thrashing the 
bathroom, cracking the bath, the mirror.

Hated Gotham.

On through the door, filled with the sheer fury of it.

Hated Santiago.

Screaming now, punching through walls.

Hated his parents.

Picking up the sofa.

Hated the Sabbat.

Smashed it against the wall, lost in the passion of destruction.

Hated his Clan.

Smashing the kitchen.

Hated himself.
Pulling the sink apart: stainless steel metal ripped like paper.

Hated everything.  Hated what he did.  Hated how he lived.  Hated God for 
letting this happen.

'What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt'

Titus stood in his apartment, panting, letting the fury subside, heard the 
end of the song

He rubbed his chin, looked at the mess he’d made, tried to pat some of the 
plaster dust of himself.

'If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way'

Titus pulled his jacket on, lit up, left.

It was not going to be a good night for someone.