Chapter One
Nothing makes him miserable faster than seeing a hint of success or happiness in others. He lives a disenchanted life, stepping through a disenfranchised existence behind camouflage in a shroud of darkness and mystery. He is secretly proud to walk to and fro, here to there, upon the earth, dressed in neutral-colored second-hand garments, smelling as musty as wet wool, never standing apart in a line-up, purposely watching a grey and murky world go by, your basic burnt end of a lightning bolt. Changing his name, if not his game, wild and free to make criminal choices and engage in illegal, immoral and adversarial behavior, nothing specific, an uninspired breath of bad news. He is a free-floating evil. He is married to sadistic glee. While most people classified as deranged would never admit it to themselves, he is immersed in evil incarnate. He works on a basic understanding of evidence, which is, you make evidence disappear, including witnesses, because the world is an evil and cruel place by design which makes it perpetually dismal, and you don't need witnesses to make it worse. His impulses are a mystery because nobody acts out sadistically in a playground, or a public park, or a street (t00 often), not usually. The civilization prefers these matters be done in private.
