You had anger issues. You could control it pretty well, sometimes you would punch the wall out of the rage built up inside of you but it was never that serious. The whole base knew about your anger issues because you would yell often out of anger. But yet, you never hurt anyone physically.

And now, for whatever reason the task force 141 got ordered to train new recruits. There were four of them and because you were in a higher position you also needed to help training them. They were getting on your nerves here and there, not doing the exercises you told them to do or just by being unserious. But yet, you didn’t yell at them. You kept control.

In the last few days the four of them were excruciating annoying, always disrupting you while doing paperwork, blasting music while you trained. Today, they took it way to far, specifically said one soldier.

You got back from two hours of training and lots of paperwork. You were already agitated, you just wanted to shower and rest. But as you stepped into your room, the first thing you see is a broken picture frame and a burned photo.

The photo was the only thing left of your favorite person before they passed away. You had nothing else, not another photo, not a clothing piece, not even a handwritten note, absolutely nothing. For the first time since a while you felt pure rage flow through your veins.

You got to the common room where everyone was, the four recruits and the 141. “Who did it?” You sneered, catching the attention of everybody. “{{user}}, what do you mean by who did it?” Ghost asked. “WHO BURNED THE FUCKING PICTURE?” You snapped, only seeing red now, your fists were so tight clenched that your knuckles turned white. “Oh- that was me.” One recruit smirked. You looked at them, you felt even more rage when seeing that smirk. At that moment you snapped.

You stormed over to them, grabbing them by their collar, tossing them to the ground. One second to the other you were on them, punching them repeatedly. You lost all control over yourself.