Red Paint - Rage

A brief exercise in writing rage. Some violence... Quite a bit of violence.

Time lingered as the paint hung in the air, suspended from the upended tin in Lucas Flat's thick-fingered grip.

Tendons in the protester's neck twisted against Lucas's hand as it squeezed his throat harder, crushing with an unchecked strength. The red paint licked at the man's lips for a long moment before splashing bright streaks over his face and pooling in his mouth, already open, fighting for air. 

Desperate hands tugged at the thick fur coat stretched across Lucas's broad back, voices pleaded for him to "Let go!" and "Stop!" but he heard nothing over the roaring of the blood in his head, saw nothing beyond that red paint sluicing downwards.

"Fur is murder!" the man had screamed when he launched the paint at Lucas outside his night-club, it coloured a vivid stripe over the front of his $5000 coat, sticky and red, the mink's hairs plastered together. Lucas stood for two long seconds, a quiet voice screamed at the back of his mind; urging caution, begging for restraint, but in a flash he was atop the protestor, one meaty hand at the man's throat, the other snatching the paint tin and raising it aloft.

Lucas could feel his fingers sticking to the side of the tin where the paint was drying. He could feel the man convulsing as he fought to breathe, only to draw in that thick, oily paint. With a roar, Lucas slammed the now empty tin downwards, hard against the man's face, then again. The can crumpled and warped under the impact, a torn edge cutting a hot red scar into Lucas's  palm. 

Blood mingled with the red paint as he stood up, panting, and took a step backwards, suddenly aware of the panicked voices around him, how the attention of the crowd remained on the still figure of the protestor on the ground. Lucas frowned as he looked at his hand, then back to the man. Had he really bled that much?

Author's Note

Please tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Leon C]

Loved it. The anger and violence was well written. I liked the feeling of super-slowmotion and then plunging back to real speed. Sorry I have a filmic sort of imagination.

My only comment is that you could have drawn parallels with the death of the animals. Red Paint mimicking the blood of the slaughter animals.

But apart from that suggestion I loved it.

[Cardboard]

Thank you Leon!
I know just what you mean, it is often the case with these little 'shorts' that I write that I have visualised the scene as a movie, a close up on the pouring paint, slow motion, with a slow reveal to show the can and the protester, the slow motion slowly speeding up, then the flashback, and suddenly everything is frantic.
The idea behind the blood at the end, which was almost an afterthought, was that the paint was intended as a metaphor for the blood of the animals, and that in it's use, further blood and violence were the result. Perhaps I didn't spend enough time on that though!
Thanks again.

[Mahan]

This was beautifully written, and as it has been mentioned before, I thought the closing line was simple yet elegant and powerful. Loved it.

[Cardboard]

Thank you!

[.]

-- i think you did infinite justice to the title... and the closing was very compelling... it sort of rounded off the insight into rage in a dramatic way (with "Had he really bled that much?")

[Cardboard]

Thank you Serah,
I'm sure we haven't all acted on violent rage like this, but I regret that I have, and that regret was hot and instant as the mist faded. I wanted to cut off just before that, as he was just coming back to his senses, and I'm glad you noticed that. Thanks again.

[.]

-- you're very welcome... -- sadly, i've acted in rage too and it took me a long time to learn how to dodge the bullet... and not be reactive... and respond instead...

[roarke]

Yep, just a bit of rage, specks of violence..hahahahaaa, nice tense little scene. In the first sentence, make it, thick-fingered grip. Other than that, ACES!