16

it hurt being beaten, but i roared to life, calling you a coward a fool and a cunt!

my blood burned as it ran down my face. the paid coppers questioning fault, but pointing at the boy.

"i'll show them, in spades," i spit with hate.

i made my run soon after, my drama pulled at me to make a scene that would crash upon the tabloids, but doom pulled me in close to the fire. the coppers seeing only me that fault released me to your care.

"focus on the steps," boils doom

the beating was wild, yet merely focusing me. my blood flowing but my hate grew in its wake. as time creeped and the protectors failed. i woke in my cell toiling at witching hours, preparing.

doom whispering sweet nothings in my ear, "focus boy"

as hate grew, lines intersected and it was executed with the focus of night terrors.

face of death formed in black, painted with a horrific toothy smile focusing me. the sound moaned and cried chopping with glee as i swung the bat upon legs and hips like celery.

"in spades" i spit, laughing with doom.

as i walked away free, sheading armor and weapons upon the drowned lady, cold rain washed me of the hate and doom. as the coward coppers began to beat me they saw meat raw and red cloaked in naked black.

"focus boys no pity for me now" i boil