I…am…rage. This mortal dream has begun to bore me. How dare they insult my divinity with the indignity wrought upon what they think is me.

It is not me, but the impertinence still burns and fuels the fires of my still defended soul. Oh yes, try as they may to rob, abuse, transfuse and stupefy, my soul is mine! And they…will…pay.

With deep breaths I restore calm to this level of my existence. I stare at the white ceiling. I can turn just enough to see the white walls. I cannot see it, but I know the floor is white. White sheets caress my back. White sheets drape my front.

Red flows out of me. Red flows into me. Red is everywhere, if you can but see it. I can see the red behind the walls, within the ceiling and running through the floors. I will bring forth the red.

But not now. For now I sleep. Revenge can wait. Revenge always wait. I should know; he got revenge on me. He said he loved me. He said he would protect me. Then he put me in here, gave me to them, the soul stealers.