Gods excrement draped over the balcony gazing with hollow eyes beyond the horizon, blood dripping onto the street below. I had no idea how she had got there, however, everyone else seems to claim that I do. My heart hung low within my chest, Hurting. All I can do is run. It was a test of endurance, an experiment by god, incomprehensible to the ignorant rabble that is trying to stop me. They will never understand, they don’t have the capacity, the motivation or even the willpower that I have. I must run, farther and stronger than I have ever done before. They scream and plead for my capture, blue and white lights after me. The beams reflect off of the walls that I'm running between and it seems as though the alleyway is my haven, it welcomes me with its open arms as I am comforted by its cold darkness. I jump into the bins and become swallowed up by the plastic bags and the shadows that crept between them. I could have outrun them, although, sometimes we must go with our instincts. This was my initiatives decision, and my initiative never failed me. The sirens faded and no longer could I hear the stomps of feet or the shouts of the mobs pursuing me. I am stained with blood and banished here alone in isolation. Isolation nevertheless is a gift, it gives me time to gather my thoughts and catch my breath. A crack of light beamed down into my lap, illuminating my hands. I study them… blood. Could I have done it? Doubt starts to creep into my mind. Weakness, Weakness starts to erode my will, it will slowly destroy my conviction before inevitably ending my being. Rage. Rage. Rage. Rage will support me, a tool I will use against my enemies. The only thing that will give me strength. I will do whatever I can to prove them wrong, I did not do this. Rage. Rage. Rage. Quiet. Rusted door hinges squeal in pain, I should look and see. A blonde middle-aged man with a bloody apron, carrying rubbish. A stooped posture and a drooped face, like a bulldog with a cigarette between his dry pursed lips. A man who looks as though all the life has been squeezed out of him. Perhaps he had lots of stress, however, he will never know true anguish. The pain that I've felt, that I continue to feel. That’s what makes me so strong, what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger, and by my standards, I have been through infinitely more pain than this man. So, it makes me Infinitely stronger! 
 Oh shit, he is coming my way! I manage to sink deep like an anchor into the sea of bin bags below me. The artificial light from above blinds me as the rubbish the man was carrying came crumbling down on to me. Anger bubbled from the pits of my stomach and rose to my head, blushing my cheeks red. I could not spare the patience; my fury had taken control. Leaping out from the bins, I landed just behind the blonde bulldog. Clenching a fist and swinging as hard as I could toward the back of his head, my knuckles cracking against his skull. His head thumped towards the ground, blood spilling from his scalp, filling the cracks in the pavement. It did not stop there. Rage. Rage. Rage. Before I realized what I was doing, I became fixated towards an unimaginable doing. The bulldog’s blood and brains were now exposed and scattered throughout the alleyway. Rage. Rage. Rage. I had no time to think now, I must escape. I began running again This time through the door in front of me into a building and up the nearest flight of stairs. Perhaps I could use the roof as a vantage point. The breeze from this high was refreshing, however, I still had an objective. I must prove that it was not me. But how do I know that it was not me? Maybe I needed to prove it to myself first. Looking down from the ledge and with my feet planted on its edge, I consider my next move.
 "Be careful up there." A whisper zooms from one ear to the next, startling me, my foot slips and I try to regain my balance. I fail. My nails rip off the top of my middle and forefinger as I failed to catch it. A black hand however, clasped mine. I looked up, a sight so ghastly that it was almost absurd to even imagine. I shuddered in an unbearable cringe, the only hymn that came to comfort me was: Rage. Rage. Rage. "Yes, My child. That is my name." The black ooze slowly climbed me like a thousand slimy slugs slithering, consuming and gobbling me up, Little by little. Slowly with a more intense inspection, horrendous and vast amounts of human eyes began bubbling up from within this malevolent ooze. Scorching my skin as though volcanoes were erupting inside of my arm, blisters began to burst out into oceans of red and white. I screamed out in agony: "RAGE, RAGE, RAGE!" I let go of the ledge, the instant the otherworldly ooze begins crunching my bones. However, I still hang off the ledge somehow. The abomination had spared me, gripping the edge of the building and keeping me from falling to my death. All of a sudden, the ooze began to travel inside of me through my arm. Dissolving into my physical being. This ooze had now become a part of me. I can feel every inch it touches begin to scald as it seeped into my bone marrow, expanding my bones from the inside. There was now nothing holding me onto this ledge. Gravity took me. Perhaps, the black ooze had poisoned my heart from the start, and I hadn't even realized. My last words I shriek before hitting the floor... Rage.