[ebff2011] Despoiled sac of bloat, frothing behemoth writhing in the decay below. Sealed in, captive of the pulsating energy of earth. Contagious wretch, held in invisible magnetic bonds. It soaked them. I grew to hate them and depend on them. And then they were released. Stolen. Its power and its prison. Its inhibitor. Its spawn grew larger and more violent. And its anger swelled in propensity. Too large now to fit through the holes to the pristine world above, it hews its cage away without effort. Great chunks of stone and metal tossed aside, difficulty a foreign notion. All of the filth spilled into the underworld is about to bubble up and rot away the surface. Imbibed in the pestilence of the Rat's wake.

[ebff2011] "He really did drink glass after glass of iced coffee. And he doesn't appreciate the criticism." -Interesting bit here is that I swore up and down this guy was in the hotel, then I realize he's in the restaurant. But I kept the title as it was because it's referencing Hotel Dusk. Gotta roll with the punches I guess.

You sigh. How long has it been since you were safe in your own house watching that zombie movie marathon? Now we see bitter irony wrought in the screaming flesh of undeath. Every instinct tells you that you should feel cold, lifeless. But you are overwhelmed by malice for the human race, and a lust for violence. You slam your fists against the walls of your butchered psyche as you and your canine partner close in on some humans. But nobody is listening to you. Your body is on autopilot. You are broken, you relent, you convert. You are theirs now.