In A Towering Rage Novels & Stories

Chapter 135. Aaron stormed into his bedroom, his face twisted in an ugly mask of pure, unadulterated fury. The veins on his neck were bulging so hard they looked ready to pop. The moment he crossed the threshold, he grabbed a heavy crystal vase from the nightstand and slammed it hard against the wall. The sound of it shattering into a million pieces echoed through the room, but it did nothing to quiet the raging storm in his chest. He wasn't just angry. He was ragging. Boiling.

The early evening air was chilly, but what boiled inside me was far more intense. I stormed out of Amy’s house like a hurricane, ignoring the breeze that tried, uselessly, to soothe my skin. I was furious, and it wasn’t a common fury, the kind that dissipates with a good cigar and a glass of whiskey. It was a glacial rage, fueled by a fear I barely dared to name.

I was trying my hardest to keep it under wraps but something about his audacity was so fucking infuriating that I couldn't hold back from flaring up. Before I could think of a calmer way to handle things, I’d bolted to my feet, rage burning through me from my crown of my head to the base of my feet. “Maybe, just maybe it's far better for you to burn to death and save the world from a self conceited person like you,” I hissed angrily before storming off.

My chest was boiling with a porridge of hot rage, spicy pepper simmering just on the surface. I banged at his door, panting heavily from my breathless anger. There was no movement inside. I wheezed with fury and banged harder, screaming his name like a lunatic. It didn't even matter to me that people around casted strange looks at me, already concluding that I had gone insane. All I could do at the heated moment, was to hope their instincts didn't remind them of their phone camera. The banging worked though as there was a sudden rush to the door. Tory opened the door, revealing her on her undies. A purple bra and orange tights.

Rage flooded him as he glared at them with eyes spitting fire. A hushed silence fell over the small crowd as their fear tripled. “Get ready to face my wrath. I'm about to rain hell!” ****Something is about to happen, guys. Don't miss the next chapter.

Rage boiled within me as I stormed into Oracle Sage's room, my heart pounding with fury and desperation. How could she, with all her supposed foresight, not have foreseen something as catastrophic as Mathew's disappearance? "I'll kill you!" I screamed, my voice laced with venom as I lunged towards her, intent on exacting revenge for my son's vanishing. As I charged towards Sage, ready to rip her head off her body, she remained eerily calm, her expression unfazed by my accusation. In spite of my rage-fueled advance, she stood her ground, her demeanor unaffected.

JAXON Rage simmered through my veins, threatening to consume me from the inside out. My mood which had been completely sour before I got home seemed to have spiked up, rendering me overly irritated. The air that hung in the room was toxic, unnerving even. The event that just occurred was enough to leave everyone on the tip of their toes. Heck, I could smell their fear.

In deep thought of the situation now, I let out a blood-curdling scream, my anger and frustration boiling over. My rage manifested in a sort of destructive frenzy as it came with unending waves. I kicked over tables and chairs, smashed vases, and tore down tapestries. The others around me scattered in fear, fearful of my growing wrath as I was completely consumed by my anger, unable to even control my actions.

“Is there a manager here?!” The words tore out of me, raw and jagged, like fire escaping a bottle. My voice wasn’t polite. It wasn’t calm. It was pure, unfiltered rage—rage that had been simmering since that nightmare morning in the mansion. The words ripped out of me, jagged and sharp, like sparks from a fire that refused to be contained. My voice wasn’t soft... neither was it careful. It was pure, untamed rage... rage that had been quietly boiling since that nightmare morning at the mansion.

Isobel I angrily yanked my arms away, feeling the heat of frustration rushing through me. My body reacted to the anger, fists clenched, cheeks burning. My muscles tightened, and my heart thumped loudly. Releasing tension, I yelled at him. “Whether we're dating or not, it's none of your business!” My words sliced through the quiet rooftop. The atmosphere became heavy, like a clash between two opposing forces. It felt like I was on the verge of exploding. The rooftop turned into a battlefield for our emotions, and I would make sure I would not back down this time.