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I could feel it rising. It started from the base of my spine and travelled through me like tiny pockets of gas passing through rock. The feeling was slow, steady and beautiful. I could feel it rising.
This is what I am good at.
The floor before me was littered with pure and unadulterated agony. Pain is magnificent, both the experience of feeling it and in its deliverance. Nothing, quite, compares.
‘At this rate there won’t be any of them left. You were supposed to leave at least one of them alive!’
I didn’t bother responding to him. The euphoric feeling inside was consuming me. Killing, to me, is the most natural thing in the world. And he was trying to bring me down. I didn’t say anything and eventually I could hear his heavy footsteps walking away. Probably to report to his master. Fool.
Grim had always been more…ahhh, reserved than myself. Maybe this is why, nah forget it! This isn’t the time.
The disfigured corpses of the congregation started to lose its beauty to me. I turned away in disgust, more with myself for ruining my moment. ‘The Illuminati’ was the new threat, and this was just a handful of them, dead in another Town Hall.
Grim had told me of the Archbishops ‘involvement’. Most of the government and especially the wealthiest of the capitalists were apart of this new world order. This spelled out trouble, and for once my feelings aligned with the Iron Mask. But I told them straight, if anyone came anywhere near me with a fucking iron-face, I would pull their fucking tongues out of their mouths and hang them with it.
I turned my back on the room and pushed the door softly too. Grim was waiting outside in one of them long black vehicles they all drove now. I jumped in and didn’t say a word as Grim tapped his huge paw on the roof of the limousine from out of the open window. The car pulled off slowly. I watched out of the back window, this was my favourite bit. The Town Hall flared up and flames licked the clear-cold-black sky. I watched the building burn until it was out of sight. Eventually I could hear the sirens of emergency ring through the night.
The Illuminati would not sleep this night, and if they did their dreams would be haunted by me. For now Henry Game had been retired. Now I went by a different title, the Illuminati needed to fear my name, the name that opposed their ideology, and rebelled in the face of regime. I became bloodedly known as The Anarchist.