Darkness fills his mind, spectres amorphous and chilling as the shadows that fill the corridors and cast evil shapes behind the beam of his flashlight. There is a key that has been touched, thought to blood, blood to thought, unleashing a rage that wouldn't die.
Memory tangles with unreason, love and hatred lose their boundaries. Anger is not just an emotion, oh, no, it is a tide, red-eyed and boiling, prising resentful corpses from his past, their bloated stench filling his throat.
MY LIFE! MINE!
His finger is tightening on the trigger. Is this what he wants? To kill?
CLICK.