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With only ruins behind him and open road ahead, he stopped. He had caused this, an entire city, thousands of people, destroyed simply because he was tired of looking at them. All of them, in your way, staring at you. Mocking you! Destroy them! They are nothing! You are a god among them and you let yourself be mocked as though you were under their heels! Rise up, worm! Rise up and destroy them! He remembered what started all this. That one, single, rogue thought, one he was sure wasn't even his own, had made him go on his rampage.

The thoughts were still there, in his mind, echoing. Their source was still there as well, although silent, satiated, wrapped around his entire body. The black material he had stolen from the gods, or at least thought he had stolen it. He was meant to take it, to become a scourge to both man and creature, to obey the very thing he had set out to take. He was a slave now, and he knew it. And worst of all, he liked it. The power at his fingers, the ability to change himself and force changes on the world around him whenever he chose. He looked and saw his work, remembering the feeling, a feeling as sweet as honey when he turned a building to rubble with a tap of his finger. As wonderful as love itself when he cut and ignited an entire apartment complex with the sword he changed his right hand into. The scent of spring flowers when he sunk a parking structure into the ground with a flick of the tail.

All of it, the great emotions that came with the destruction and pain of others, he needed it now. When he first started, he destroyed in fear, then anger, and soon the anger faded to a need, a need so strong he destroyed a city just to feed it. He even forgot who he was, so consumed with the need. He would never remember again, even after the need had faded. It was still there, of course, threatening to gnaw at him when enough time had passed.

Suddenly, a noise caught his attention, the sound of clicking coming from the ruins behind him. He turned his head too see a man, holding a camera and taking pictures. Or was it a woman? Or a child? He couldn't tell, it didn't even matter. The need sprang up in anger. How dare they?! Trying to get money by ridiculing you through the media! Make them pay! The alien thoughts came again, and he had no choice but to obey the need. He almost tried to resist, but the sweet nectar that was the power, running through his veins and around his claws, had changed his mind. He would make them pay, all of them.