Another damn commercial. Damn it. Pay-per-view was the answer, but the bitching he’d get from his skank-of-a-wife wouldn’t… what the hell.

The image on the screen froze, then distorted… stretched.

He blinked hard. Maybe his blood pressure again? He tried to calm down.

A bright flash! The image leapt from the TV screen and engulfed him.

Something… strange. He felt… different. Had he moved? What happened? He was standing in a different spot. He was suddenly much closer to the TV. The anger was building; it seemed odd. Alive. Consuming.

He was staggered. He could feel his mind slipping away.

A stroke?

He turn around and tried to step towards the stairs. He needed help. He needed… what was her name?

The rage was winning. He could feel it. But where was it coming from?

Then he saw it. A body on the floor. It almost didn’t register. He was looking himself… torn. Torn in half.

That can’t be me!

That was his last thought. The rage had won.

It was you. There are more to come.