Inferno

Simon stood in front of a large mirror, he couldn't see any change, but he knew that something had happened.

It had been a change in his mind; something inside had broken clean in two.

For years he had suffered at the hands of fools, ignorant people that looked down on him because of what he did for a living. He had been a security guard for six years, he worked in the head office of a large bank and he made barley enough money to cover his mortgage. He was the bottom of the pile, and the staff never hesitated in letting him know it. The anger he felt was so strong that it transcended the normal confines of the human mind; it became a physical manifestation, pure energy generated by pure hatred.

A member of staff walked by him, and like he had been told to, he bid her a good morning, but she simply walked past him without even glancing in his direction.

That's when it happened, something inside his mind slipped out of joint, activating an unused and forgotten trigger.

A sudden pain screamed through his brain like the wailing of the banshee.

It tore through his mind, sending white-hot pins lancing up and down his spine.

As the pain slowly subsided, he walked unsteadily to the toilet.

As he walked out of the toilet a member of staff walked straight into him, he shoved Simon out of the way, muttering crude insults under his breath. And that's when the weapon in his mind came devastatingly to life. As the man walked away Simon glared at him, hatred poured out of his eyes like living waves of flames, the man stopped suddenly and turned to face Simon, a look of surprise and pain distorting his face. His pale skin began to turn pink, and then a deep dark blood red, he opened his mouth to issue a scream, and all that came was a wet gurgle and a pungent sulphurous smell. Simon stood in shocked silence; he wondered what it was that he had done. He didn't have long to wait, the man crumpled to the floor, and as he landed a geyser of blood sprayed out of his mouth, it flew into the air the fell back down, covering him in a gory crimson flood. His limbs began to thrash about widely, Simon could hear the cracks as his bones broke and joints became dislocated. And still it wasn't over; the most devastating aspect of his power was still to manifest itself.

As he watched on Simon began to see the skin of the man's face blacken and blister, steam and rancid vapours spewed into the tainted air. The man was burning, the fats and juices of his body stewing and bubbling as he slowly cooked.

As his eyes burst and jelly rolled and steamed down his crisp cheeks, the man finally managed to scream, a loud and piercing wail of pain and despair. At last the man died, his torso cracked open, spilling his guts and entrails on to the soiled carpet tiles.

As the spitting and crackling slowly began to fade, the sound of people screams began to seep through the shock Simon felt.

"What the hell happened"?

"What's going on"?

"Somebody call an ambulance".

The words made no sense to Simon, he couldn't get his head back into the real world, he had unleashed a fury that had no bounds, he was better than that other world, he was the angel of death, ready to deliver the world that had killed his passion in to the arms of death and decay.