There is a feeling deep inside of me.

It infiltrates my body, working its way through my colon and up into my gut.

It pounds away at me.

This feeling of dread that just won't go away, why is it still there? All I can do is take it, I curl my toes and wait for the sense of hatred to waft away from my body, but it only makes it harder. Why must I always have this feeling of unstoppable madness? When did it all begin? I try to think back but my mind is devoid of all.

I cry out.

It's almost over.

It fuels me to continue with the war I've waged against myself and everyone else in existence, the very one that drove me to the mafia and keeps me fighting for my supreme spot as King of Philadelphia, it is the only thing I have left. Yet it is a curse, as well as a gift, and as I sit here waiting for it to go away for the fifth time in as many days; my mind fills with memories for but a brief moment.

"Revan, King of Philadelphia and Lord of the Americas, the animals of the forests have decreed that you... oh no, he has been shot. That really puts a bad start to this day... darn."

It happened once before, but it didn't kill me. The thick rod of anger pounds away at my heart, as I remember every single moment of my last presumed death. Like the pope, I too will forgive, but also like an elephant or perhaps a crow, I will never forget.

The anger inside me leaves again, but it will be back. 

It always comes back.

Fin.