Look within your pain. Look within the feeling that demands to be felt. Look within the feeling that makes you squirm, wince and grimace. Look within and find your cure, for it is the only place where solace can be found.
***
Alan shot forward, blasting a hole in the ground, straight toward Amund, and the two remaining men jumped in his way, intending to stop his advance. But all he did was show a venomous smile, not faltering his approach in the slightest. He felt something inside his mind. Something alien, yet familiar, whispering in his ear. Dragging him deeper into depravity, while screaming for blood, yearning for slaughter, and hungering for death. Alan readily indulged in those feelings, allowing his mind to be submerged in the sentiment of fury and letting his rationality ebb away. He quickly smashed through one man, pulverizing his lower half, before stopping before the other.
An infuriated 10-year-old may have looked comical, owing to their short stature, and young features, but Alan's veined face, reddish, bloodshot eyes, and that he was covered in innards and blood, made him look anything but. The man's legs shook and he unconsciously took a step back.
Seeing that, Alan's face contorted into a fiendish grin, his teeth stained red. He stared into the man's eyes drinking in his trepidation. The fear, the horror, the dread. That's what he wanted to see. The pleasure he got from seeing his terror was simply deli-
Gasp!
Alan's clouded eyes cleared and he shook his head.
'What just happened?', he thought to himself, greatly confused and he looked down at his hands which felt oddly wet.
Was that....blood?
His eyes widened as he realized that it wasn't just his hands, but that his entire body, from head to toe, was slathered in it. He slowly turned around, and a gruesome sight of a body whose lower half was missing, met his eyes.
'Did I do that?'
"Aaaah!", he yelped, falling on his behind, trying to remove the blood that drenched his clothes and hands. Even if he had been prepared to do anything to save his mother, nothing could prepare him, a 10-year-old boy, for murder, the act of taking a life. It was so simple, yet held great significance.
But what shook him to the core was the pleasure he got when he ran through the man, and saw the fear in his comrade's eyes. It was odd, as it felt more than just the pleasure of taking revenge. He had enjoyed it. He had enjoyed the feeling of running through somebody. He had enjoyed the feeling of causing pain and suffering, and most of all he had loved the pure terror he saw in the man.
Amund chuckled, turning toward the bloodied kid on the floor.
"You are a Djinn after all."
He walked toward Alan his face now carrying a satisfied grin. He did not seem to care for the lives of his men.
"You enjoyed it didn't you?", He continued. "How was their fear? Their helplessness? Did you like crushing those worms? Those pests? Those bugs?"
"Nnn..n..No. I didn't.", Alan stuttered, scrambling away from Amund.
"You lie. You know what you have done. You are one of us. You are like me."
"No. I am nothing like you!"
"A murderer"
"NO!"
"A killer."
"You're wrong!"
"You're right. That doesn't perfectly describe you. Hmm, what's the word? Scourge? No. Menace? No."
"Stop. Just stop"
Alan's head was starting to heat up. The feeling of bloodlust was returning.
"Aha! I got it! Monster!", Amund spread his arms as though he was proud of himself.
"AAARGH!"
With a roar, Alan leaped toward Amund, his arms outstretched, his eyes insane, but Amund batted away his fists and grabbed his throat, all with a single hand.
"You feel it don't you? The rage. The anger. The pain.", Amund muttered, his eyes looking at Alan flailing in his grasp, with pity. "Know this, brother. That fury! That wrath! That is our blessing, but also our curse."
Alan did not respond, for his mind was a garbled mess. Scenes of him, his mother, and grandpa Joe flashed past but were squashed down by his fury and rage. Tears formed in his eyes, streaming down his messy face now caked with not only dirt but also dried blood. But just before his anger could completely consume him, just before his sanity slipped away for good, something flickered in his mind. It felt foreign, but the most peculiar part was that it was fighting off his bloodlust, soothing him. His mind started to calm down and his rationality started to return. The insanity in his eyes started to recede and his arms stopped flailing about, after which he gripped the hand that held him up.
Amund frowned, 'This wasn't supposed to happen.'
He had expected Alan to completely lose his sanity, spiraling into madness. That state of frenzy was called 'Berserker Rage' by the Djinn, for it was a state that only someone with Djinn blood could achieve. It greatly boosted one's strength and speed in exchange for one's rationality. It could be triggered voluntarily or accidentally when one is greatly angered, or emotionally stimulated. Of all the things he expected Alan to do, he never expected him to regain his calm.
'Does this bastard have greater control over his emotions than I do?', Amund thought incredulously.
Alan breathed in and closed his eyes ignoring Amund's baffled face, focusing on the foreign presence that he had felt in his mind. It was indeed...peculiar. It felt unfathomably deep, akin to an endless ocean, but also like a primordial beast, slumbering, waiting to be awakened. And unfortunately for Alan, awaken it did. As though roused by Alan's attention, the presence slowly reared its head. Alan's breath caught in his throat, for he had no idea if what he accidentally did was beneficial in any way. For a few seconds, the presence did nothing, as though coming to terms with where it was, before expanding, consuming Alan's mind, not unlike his bloodlust.
"Aaaaaarrghh!"
Alan's head jerked back and his body started to convulse.
Amund's eyes widened as Alan jerked about in his grasp, for this wasn't rage or fury, but pain. Alan howled in agony, for it was as though searing hot knives were stabbing into every inch, every pore of his body. His mouth was screaming of its own violation, as his limbs twisted in unnatural positions. Death would have been a relief to him at this moment.
But with the pain came power.
Incredible power.
But this was not just any strength. He perceived a connection with the earth that stood beneath his dangling feet and the wind that blew past his messy hair. It felt as though the world itself was lending its might
It was a strength that made Djinn blood seem substandard. He felt as though he could crack the earth with a single step and blow away Amund with a single breath.
But it was too much. The best comparison would be Alan trying to drink from a lake by drilling a hole in its bottom and placing his mouth under the said hole. It was killing him, for his puny body was not able to take in the sheer amount of energy coursing through it.
The ground started to shake and the sky started to rumble. Amund tried to release his grip on Alan but he was stuck in place, the ground anchoring his feet and Alan's small hands somehow preventing his own arm from moving. Alan's red eyes started to glow with an abnormal light as the skin on his face started to blister and his veins started to explode. The energy showed no signs of receding, continuing to build up in Alan's body, while his bones creaked and muscles tore due to its pressure.
He was going through indescribable pain, but he subconsciously knew that if he lost consciousness, he was a goner. He grit his teeth and with great effort, tried to subdue the energy that raged within him. Eventually, the earth stopped rumbling and the sky fell silent. He was succeeding, but the sheer amount of energy still circulating within him was fatal nonetheless.
'If I am going to die regardless of what I do, I'll take my mother's murderer with me.'
Alan resolved himself, and instead of stopping the energy, he drew it in greater amounts, compressing it in his body. Blood flowed out of his clenched jaw as he held all that energy in. And at the perfect moment, he used the rage he felt when he saw his mother stabbed, his pain, his fury, his anger and pushed it all out.
He raged, and the world raged with him.
He wept, and the world wept with him.
"AAAAARRGHH!!!", with an inhuman roar, the energy surged out, manifesting in a deadly explosion.
***
Alan's body, or what was left of it, lay on the ground.
His consciousness was as feeble as it could have been. Hanging by a thread.
'This is the end, huh? doesn't feel too bad', Alan thought as he felt a pleasant darkness start to consume him. Just as he felt himself slip away, a blurry figure suddenly materialized next to him.
"Ye really are an unlucky lad, aren't ya boy?", it said, and a warm feeling enveloped him, after which he lost consciousness.