Dead Elephant: Chapter One

Each of us has a purpose. A track we unknowingly follow. It's in our genes, it's in the very fabric that makes us us. Each of us have a set of rules we follow called "Ethics". Now most people's ethics are different from one another, and trivial at that. Even if each of us have different ethics, ideals we hold true to ourselves [rules we would never break, no matter what the situation] but the one unanimous connection to all of them, is the fact that we would never break them.
Those things we hold dear to ourselves, are the very things that define us. They acknowledge our purpose.
But that's not to say we can't try and ignore them. We can go against ourselves, go against that desire, that plan that has already been set before us. But no matter what, we will always be brought back.
This is one such story.

Tyler was created in a laboratory, as all men are, with the purpose of bringing the cubes down. To destroy everything.
The rogue scientist who created him [a man given the blessing of the illusion of a higher purpose] wanted him to bring the world to justice. To bring balance to the equation of life, to make every living creature equal.
With his path lying in front of him, all Tyler would have to do is ride it out. Like a car on a track. All he would have to do is follow his heart, follow that voice inside of his head, and everything would go according to plan.
Tyler was, The Great Destroyer.

Tyler felt it in him, that joy for destruction, at a very small age. He loved tormenting the women who owned him, throwing objects at them, ruining their dresses, etc. But once he returned to that subdued state, the world looked like a disgusting place. So he decided to ignore those feelings, to push them down -- deep down, inside of him. To a place where they'd never come back up. Because Tyler knew that once he got on the path of destruction, getting off again was never an easy task.
But he felt empowered, being so strong within. While his peers degraded themselves by means of alcohol, smoking, or drug abuse, he remained constant -- pure to his ideals. It wasn't always easy, his insides were a maelstrom -- a constant contradiction of ideas and feelings. He couldn't understand why and how he could love and hate the same person so passionately. So he kept those thoughts to himself, and one the rare occurrences when he did pour out his conflicting emotions and thoughts, he was often rewarded with unpleasant responses. The truth often pushed those people away, but if he tried to retreat back inside himself, to a more inward appearance, he'd push them away even further.
It was an endless dilemma.
Tyler had the most wretched owner at one point, yet he was drawn to her for reasons he didn't know. They were, of course because she was the key to unlocking his barrier. The perfect way for him to be put back on his predetermined path.
The story begins when Super Bitch, Tiffany comes home.
"Tyler! I'm home!" She screams as she slams the door closed behind her. He walks in and greets her.
"Welcome home, darling. How was your evening?" He asks passively.
"Ugh, it was awful!" She says, she's excessively drunk. " All the guys at the bar were worthless. You're better than they are in the sack!" She screams removing her scarf.
"How many of them did you sleep with tonight?" Tyler asks.
"Only six. I'm telling you, they were awful at it!" She then removes her shoes. She stumbles a little bit.
"Well, that's not too many." Tyler says biting down his anger. Trying to ignore those feelings of incompetence and jealousy. "How much did you drink?"
"Well, we were all doing shots and then one guy decides we should all start doing lines, so we did." She says hanging her coat on the coat rack next to the door.
"That sounds like fun, I'm relieved you didn't call me while it was happening." Tyler says, still standing in the same spot, his hands behind his back.
"Yeah, I didn't want to talk to you, you would have just nagged and nagged and asked me to stop. Like you can really tell me what to do!" She said.
"Well, it upsets me -- seeing you like that. You're so much better than all of those things, Tiffany. I wish sometimes you'd listen to me." He says, he's ashamed of being so honest. He's even more ashamed because he knows his words are falling on deaf ears.
"Listen to you? A woman listen to a man!?" She shouts loudly. "I'd sooner shoot myself in the foot than do that, Tyler! And you know that!" She vomits a little, it pours out of the cracks of her mouth. The two streams roll down the sides of her mouth, down her jaw, and collect in the center of her chin. The yellow, green liquid drips onto her brown cardigan sweater.
"Tiffany." Tyler pleads. "Please, go wash yourself off, and go to bed." He motions with his hand towards the washroom.
"Fuck you, don't tell me what to do!" She screams.
"I asked, I didn't tell you." He responds.
"Whatever, you know what I mean you smart ass, piece of shit!" She screams, she's now stabbing her finger tips into his chest.
"Please, Darling." He pleads, again. "Just go wash up."
"Don't tell me what to do, Tyler!" She screams, her head cocked back, looking him dead in the eyes.
Tyler bites his lips and closes his eyes. He breathes in deeply through his nose, and exhales it through his nose as well. He opens his eyes.
"Tiffany, go take a shower. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"What!?" She screams as she turns around, following him with her eyes as he walks out of her apartment.

-Sir Jestro