• It all started with simple Rage.
    All i wanted to do was help not destroy.
    I ruined men and womens lives for what i did and paid no mind till that night when the rage faded away. Then the sorrow would come. The killing and dismemberment meant nothing when the rage was in me. Killing and Ruin was a flame burning inside of me.
    I never knew I was like this until the it happened.
    Last year on my 25 birthday I walked down the streets of New York City. Then suddenly I was pulled into a alley way were 3 men surrounded me. One of then punched me in the gut then another slammed me into a wall. Then I felt uncontrolable strength. Something no one else has ever had. I broke the mens arms then went for their legs snapping them like toothpicks.
    They howled and screamed for mercy but the rage overwhelmed me. I snapped each individual neck feeling more happy after each crack. Then I walked home. I cried through the night. Then a few day later the disappearences were in the news paper. Not soon after they found the bodies. Not much was left by then. They traced no sign of me though they knew there was rough housing.
    Now I slowly show myself outside the apartment I live in. I despratly search for a cure or some antidote to heal me but I know deep down inside its never going to leave.