I turn the water to cold in the shower, hoping it’ll help me shake off the persistent urge to kill someone. It doesn’t help much. Pressing my palms to the tiled wall, I lift my chin and let the cold spray hit me right in the face. As the freezing water runs down my body, I dig inside my brain, pulling out the memory of one of my last fights. The most violent one, since I need some way to deal with this urge to destroy someone. My opponent snuck a knife inside the ring and managed to slice my side twice before I overpowered him. I made sure he knew what I thought about his actions by breaking his back and burying his own blade to the hilt at the base of his skull. Violence isn’t something I enjoy, but when I find myself in a beast’s den, I inevitably become the very beast I’m fighting. It’s
