Matteus whirled around and prepared to take on the prosession of squad cars. He took a step forward, when the voice spoke up inside his mind again.

ENOUGH! Suddenly he felt his strength drain from him as pain welled up inside his chest. It was his heart, his damned blackened heart. He felt the talons of the beast dig into it and collapsed to his knees, clutching the vacant cavity of his chest. He opened his eyes just long anough to see a gun barrel trained on his chest, and then felt his chest burst as a 9mm slug passed through his chest. RUN, the voice commanded, and Matteus began to retreat. He felt a bullet pass through his shoulder and heard the officer who fired it yell,

"Freeze! Police!" He felt three more rounds pierce his body and swore vengeance on every one of the fools who dared to fire on him, but his body continued to press on. Up to the roof, the voice said, and Matteus snagged a nearby ladder and stole up to the roof. At the top of the roof he found a homeless man Him. Matteus shook his head.

"I don't dine on filth." He felt pain in his chest again and heard the beast snarl, HIM! Matteus felt his gorge well up inside him, and nodded. He approached the man and raised his weapon. The blade bit into his chest and drank deeply of the homeless man's life force. The act revolted Matteus and he dry heaved. Had there been anything in Matteus's stomach at the time, it likely would've ended up on the homeless man's corpse. All the same, he did feel better. His wounds had began to heal and strength had returned to him.

It went this way for Matteus as he stalked aimlessly through the streets. He dined on drug dealers, murderers, rapists, people that Matteus had no quarrel with. Occasionally he would attempt to endulge himself with one of the women he passed, but they were not for him. The beast saw to it that he didn't so much as touch a hair on their heads. Unto him belonged the harlots, and socially immoral. It wasn't long before Matteus grew weary of this rough treatment. Soon he welcomed the pain, for it meant he was defying his captor. Until one day...

Matteus had just slaughtered three children against the wishes of the beast and felt another surge of pain almost cripple him. But therein layed the problem. ALMOST. Normally, the pain would at least bring him to his knees. Not this time. This time he barely shook. Matteus charged, and thrust his blade through an unsuspecting woman's back and smiled as the pain continued to subside.

"Free," he said and then let out a laugh of sadistic glee, "I'm FREE!" In a feat of blinding speed he ended the lives of fifty men, thirty women, and seven children. The whole time he commensed his mindless slaughter he heard the beast demanding, nay PLEADING with him to obey. And when Matteus only ignored the beast, the beast sent his prized warrior. He claimed no name as his own, and wore the attire of a gunslinger, though his holsters were barren of the big iron they once cherished to hold. A cigarette clamped tightly between his teeth, and over his back was slung a coffin. Darkness followed him with every step of his pale steed, and fire and smoke billowed from beneath its brimstone hooves. Matteus turned to survey this man who seemed to materialize from his own shadow and saw that on his left arm was the same type of weapon as Matteus had on his right. The man opened his eyes and Matteus saw that there were none, only the fires of Hell and damnation. And written across the skull plate of his steed was profane in the world of men. This "man" was Death, and Hell followed with him.

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