Genre+2+Mystery

Rage swarmed through Bruce Banner as the swat team surrounded his house. The love of his life Betty was looking out the broken window that had recently been shattered by teargas. Betty tried to cover her face but was to late the teargas had already gotten to her. Her eyes filled with tears, nose running, coughing, skin reddening, all of this fuelled the rage the uncontrollable demon that was hidden inside the lanky Bruce Banner. Bruce’s Eyes were tearing as well he fell to his knees and began coughing; he grabbed his chest and began ripping his shirt. The smoke engulfed then and the swat team rammed into the door, but as the battering ram hit the door the men flew into the air in the opposite direction. Emerging from the wreckage was the demon himself, the Hulk. In the arms of the massive monster was the unconscious Betty Ross. The Hulk swatted the large swat vans out of his way and then jumped into the air away from all his problems. When Betty woke she was in a crummy motel room and Bruce lay on the floor at the foot of the bed face down. Betty quickly ran to Bruce’s side and propped his head on her knees. “Bruce, honey, Wake up” she said gently rubbing his check. “Wh- Oh shit. Not again” “I’m afraid so honey” Bruce stood up and paced back and forth. “I can’t. This can’t happen again. I need to stop him or it.” “You know you can’t stop him he’s going to do what he wants.” “No there must be way” “Bruce” “There’s has to be someone that can help me” “BRUCE” She yelled “Just stop it and let’s to bed.” Bruce opened his mouth to reply but then closed it and they both got in bed. Betty fell back asleep but Bruce stayed awake. His thoughts kept wondering, thinking about how to control the Hulk, how to stop him from showing up again. He realized that he had to find someone before he hurt someone he loved. He turned his head and stared at Betty. He had to do it for her. Bruce gently got out of bed and pulled up his pants and buttoned his shirt. He grabbed his wallet that had some how remained in the strips of cloth that made up his pants. There was 150 dollars. He took twenty and left the rest for Betty with a not that said: // Dear Betty, // // I have to go I can’t keep doing this to you, to us. I’m going to search for someone that can help me control the Hulk. Don’t come looking for me, I’ll find you when I have everything figure out. That is if you still want to be with me. // // Love, // // Bruce // Bruce walked out of the hotel room with only the clothes on his back and made his way for destinations unknown. Bruce walked alone down a deserted dirt road. His face was painted with exhaustion and hunger. His facial hair had grown in now to create a grizzly beard that covered a good portion of his face. So Bruce had been through two towns and talked to every person he could about anger management and how to control your inner demons. He talked to support groups, psychiatrists, scientists, and even physics. He made no head way in his temper control. That is until today, wandering down the road the sun high beads of perspiration dripped down his forehead. He staggered forward and saw the outline of a wooden shack in the distance. Bruce strained his eyes trying to make it out. He continued to stager onward. Closer and closer hoping this shack would have water and be abandoned. His efforts to reach the house were ineffective. He was about 50 feet away before he collapsed from exhaustion and allowed the sun to whip him with its hot beams of fire. Bruce’s eyes closed and his mind lost connection to the world around him. Before Bruce’s eyes fluttered shut he could have swore he saw the bleared face of a man. When Bruce awoke from his heat-coma he was met with the feeling of cool air across his face and the clanging of glasses sloshing over with icy water. He turned his head to speak but his throat contracted erupting a scratchy squeal. “Relax yourself, son, here take a drink” a mystery man with a large straw hat on said offering Bruce the glass. Bruce extended his hand and it let lose a storm of shake. “Here, boy, let me help.” The man grab lifted Bruce’s head up and put the glass to his lips and let the chilled water flood down Bruce’s parched throat. “So where ya coming from, son” the man said removing the glass from his mouth. “I’m-” Bruce erupted in a fit of coughs “I’m searching for a way to cope with my anger. See I’ve got a real bad temper, and when I get real angry I can’t always control myself.” “ahhh. I see.” The man removed his hat took out a handkerchief and wiped away a few beads of sweat. “Well when I was young I too had some problems with anger. See I used to get myself real angry and when I did sometime, well I’d lose my mind. Id throw things kick, punch, hell I just went around Smashing stuff.” “So what happened? You don’t seem like you’ve done and damage in here.” “What happened is I met my wife. We got married and being with her gave me an all around feeling of tranquility. Ever since then whenever I felt angry of out of control I just think of my wife and everything seems to fall away and make me happy again. Then I’m right as rain.” After there talk Bruce got up and ate a little dinner with the Man in the hat. After which the Man gave him some fresh clothes and a ride into town. “Well, thanks friend, you’ve saved me in more ways then you can imagine.” “It’s been my pleasure, son.” Bruce walked away from the car and started down the sidewalk halfway down he turned back and waved. The Man in the hat waved back. As Bruce started his long walk back to Betty he realized that the true answers to all his questions had been in front of him the whole time. Betty had been his source of serenity, of his happiness, of who he is.
 * Three months later… **