Terror's Agony

Jack Ridley has fought off his fear by striking it into the heart's of others, but nothing scares him more than the putrid stench of terror that clings to the air like a lifeline whenever he lets his wrath run wild.

The steady burn of his cigarette isn't the only thing that could go up in flames.
A fire has started within him so monstrous that not even the devil on Jack's shoulder can reap what he sows.

How do you fight your fears when the only thing left to fear is yourself?

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2. Prologue-Jack Ridley

Most people would say that it's an anger problem, or that I'm just a problem in general.

That's what my mom used to say when I let my mouth run down below the ground.

Most would say that it's just pent-up aggression, it's hatred for the maddening world and it's needless boundaries.

Shouldn't they know? That hatred is born from fear.

I fear everything, but isn't that the gift of man? To fear an outcome until you can come up with a way to change it? To change the way things are, and make new and safer fears? Fears that don't threaten your life, that don't threaten your family, that don't always win the game of life.

And why is life seen as a game or a party when it is anything but?

Are we just trying to distract ourselves from the death that will take each and every one of us?

Death does seem to be the only thing that our mindless brainiacs haven't solved. That's exactly why we distract ourselves from it. That's why we ignore it, that's why we act like the reaper isn't hanging over our heads just like the ceiling above your bed that could cave in at any moment while your fast asleep, dreaming neverending dreams that will never happen.

We want life to be enjoyable so the time you spend on this earth isn't spent worrying about paying your taxes, or washing your car, or your wife finding out you're cheating on her with the teenage babysitter.

Why don't we stop trying so hard to let the normalcy of things worry us.

I am no exception as I let fear control my every move.

It haunts me, feeding in ecstasy off of my anger as I let it get the best of me. It eats away at all things good and poison's even the devil on my shoulder.

There's not a single moment in the day when I don't see red.

It used to be when I was angry, when I let go instead of drowning the hatred in my complete and utter misery... Like everyone else does.

That's the only difference between you and me. I don't deny fear as my ruler, I don't deny that free will is only an unreachable illusion, a lifeless dream.

Save some trouble and don't kid yourself, because the only thing you're going to learn from me is that letting go has always taken up the whole measly list of choices you have in your lifetime, and it's not even yours.

I'm not going to trick you into thinking you have choices, so don't confuse me with your made-up conscience, because I'm real, and I'm angry.

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