Madhouse
Legacy Name: Madhouse

Abandoned as a pup, Madhouse lived in a dingy alley; an old, rain-soaked cardboard box his only shelter. He was well hidden from the outside world, and kept his existence hidden between three large trash cans that were rarely used. Rarely used, until they showed up.

He watched them approach, a small boy shaking in the grip of a big, burly thug. "Where's my money?!" the man seethed, his dark eyes unchanging as he glared at the boy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I couldn't get it in time!" The boy's eyes filled with tears, and Madhouse noted that his bottom lip trembled with something that he could only describe as deep, deep fear. And he couldn't have been more right.

With one swift movement, the thug struck the small boy, his fist making direct contact with the side of his head. He fell to the ground with a muted "thud", and Madhouse flinched, not believing his eyes. Though he'd lived here his entire short life, he'd never seen anything like this.

Two of the smaller thugs lifted the boy's lifeless frame off the ground, and dumped it into the trash can nearest to Madhouse's small, makeshift home. He didn't make a sound, and held his breath, until he could hear the footsteps and voices trailing off into the city.

• • •

It went on for years. Madhouse would watch, as the same gang would bring unsuspecting victims into his alley, murder them in cold blood, and leave them in his trash cans.

As the years passed, Madhouse became more and more desensitized to the idea of 'death'. It didn't scare him as it did when he was a pup; moreover, it intrigued him. He wanted to know the feeling of murder. He knew it was wrong, but he was so consumed in his demented thoughts, that he had to do something; something completely and utterly sick.

• • •

The same gang made their way into the alley, dragging yet another unsuspecting young man with them. They had him by his collar, pressed up against the nasty wall of the alley. Obscenities were being shouted, and the young man pleaded desperately for his life.

In a flash, a fury of black and red leaped from behind his trash can shelter, and took down the largest of the brutes. Bloodshed stained the concrete, and the rest of the thugs bolted in different directions, each one screaming and heading back into the city.

The young man scrambled to his feet, witnessing the crime that had be committed in front of him. The largest thug lay bleeding out on the ground, a large, shaggy dog breathing heavily on top of him, staring back at him, his jaw and teeth covered in blood.

As if he understood, the young man backed out of the alley and ran, and never looked back. He vowed to take the secret of the large, black and red dog with him to his grave.

• • •

Madhouse sunk back into his cardboard home, content with himself. His eyes slowly changed back to their normal amber color, and he fell into a peaceful sleep, his matted fur providing a nice coat for the slowly incoming cold night. Poor Madhouse really didn't mean any harm; after all, growing up where all you knew was death, wouldn't you be a little mad, too?

Credits

(1) Profile by Paula
(2) Story by girl
(3) Bg created by Paula starting from brick and grunge patterns from freepik
(4) Beware sign created by Paula starting from an angry dog image from publicdomainvectors.org
(5) Alley photo from goodfreephotos.com
(6) Dog Tag created starting from a photo from dogtagclan.com.br
(7) Paw vectors and paper pieces from freepik
(8) Fonts from dafont.com