Anger makes us kills people

Destroy the things around us

The way it felt makes us burn

The burden of yourself makes a sacrifice to hell

It’s a hell of a ride

But

We gotta do what we gotta do

That’s the way it is

Is the anger will go away from the humans?

Or is it will exist as same as before which was inherited?

I don’t know

You tell me

Anger got a lot of stories within us

And out of ourselves

It brings us to the place where we are today

It’s open up to a world of its own

Power will go through your pain

Makes you fall into a trap

The finger of the knuckle a shot will mark a scar on your face

Anger got a deep well of sinners

This dark curse that collapse on Baxtewos will turn everything upside-down in the region...

“You cannot ignore it anymore Oswald. Our patients are dying. They are getting killed by someone who is still out there. Every patient’s life is in danger. We have to do something Oswald.”

“No one care about the patients Clarissa. To us it’s just one retard less. Less inmates means less work.”

“And what about those who were murdered, Viktor? They need justice. This. Can’t. Be. Ignored. Anymore.”

“I don’t care Twill. Do what you are supposed to do.”

“Of course I will.”

********

Someone is out on a killing rampage in West Baskerville Psychological Institute. Targets aren’t particular. Patients are chosen like the numbers in the game of Bingo. Random. The first victim was an inmate from the building A, The building for the criminally insane. No one seems to find any pattern or similarities, but there is a peculiar exception. Their eyes were carved out of the eye sockets before they died.