As the first rays of sunlight hit the back of his neck, his head snapped up. He rubbed his eyes and checked the clock above the door to the bar. 5:30 AM. He could feel a monster hangover incubating in the back of head. He staggered up the stairs to the men's wing of the mansion. Drunken fingers fumbled the key into the lock on his door. He shoved the door open and promptly fell forward onto the floor of his room. He lay there, passed out, until the morning cleaning crew found him. As they always did, they picked him up and helped him to his bed.
He slept until the gong sounded for dinner. He ran his hand through his short blond hair as he sat up. He glanced at his mirror and groaned. He truly looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his mouth was cottony thick with sleep and alcohol. Only one thing for it, he thought. He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed one of the tall bottles there. He brought it to his lips, closed his eyes and gulped down the remains of the liquor. He had no idea what it was but it was chasing away the last bit of his headache.
He shifted his legs so he sat on the edge of his bed. He put his head in his hands and began to cry softly. Why do I feel this way? His body quickly became racked with sobs. What's wrong with me? He screamed his sorrow at the walls. What the Hell is happening to me? His hands groped for another bottle. Finding it empty, he flung it at the wall. It shattered, raining shards of glass onto the floor. The rest of his bottles soon followed. He turned to throw his alarm clock at the mirror, anticipating the sweet sound of the glass shattering, when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. His eyes were wild and feverish. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a snarling rictus. Every muscle was tensed and ready for action. He felt his heart pound in anticipation.
He took a few deep breaths and set down his clock. He got up and dressed himself in whatever was closest to his feet. He made his way to the dining hall. Most of the others were already seated. They tried not to stare at him as he took his seat at the table reserved for members of the inner circle. A plate of food was quickly set down in front of him. He shoveled it in, barely tasting it. His comrades at the table stole glances at him out of the corners of their eyes. They said nothing to him but their concern was plain. He had been growing increasingly more self-destructive in the past few weeks. All of them had tried to speak to him about it. He shrugged them off with false promises of reformation or with anger at their trying to control his life. The wiser members of the Court knew that no one could help him if he did not want to be helped. So they sat back and prayed every night that he would still be alive the next morning.
He finished his meal. By this time, the entire membership was in the hall. Confused, he glanced about the room. Then he remembered it was Wednesday. The weekly Black Hellfire Club General Assembly. He had never been much for the pomp and circumstance. He especially detested these long drawn out meetings. He sat back and closed his eyes.
The Black King Silver stood. The hall fell silent as he spoke. "Your King bids you welcome. Scribe! Read back the minutes of last week's meeting."
He tried to get comfortable in his chair. His thoughts continued to torture him.
*How can you live with yourself? You're sick. A freak. Claws for hands. The ability to detonate most anything you see. The instincts of a killer. A killer. Killer.* He shifted nervously as the minutes were read. *Do you deserve to live? Should you be put down? Do you have any worth to anybody at all?*
His body shuddered and he sat up straight in his chair. He knew what he needed to do. He wiped the tears away from his eyes and concentrated on Silver as he stood again.
"Before we begin this week's procedings, is there any new business that needs to be addressed that is not on the agenda?"
He stood up unsteadily and cleared his throat.
Silver acknowledged him, "The assembly recognizes the Black Knight, Havok."
All eyes were on him. Havok returned the stares and spoke.
"I...I'm just...Oh Hell, I retire! I'm done. I'm no longer the Black Knight."