A warm feeling that blossoms in the chest and spreads throughout the body, we normally use this to describe happiness or an intense feeling of joy.
However, there are times when it is noted as different, or even as an odd effect, it's corrupting potential. When the warmth spreads and is fueled by something darker, the gentle rivulets of warmth becoming raging torrents of flame that spread like a wildfire across the chest, the heart pumping liquid rage through every vein in the body.
This is true rage, the fire that burns within and consumes the soul, twists the mind and warps the very perception. This macabre emotion turns even a sane man into less than a savage animal.
It was through this that Hawkins found himself pointing the barrel of a shotgun at the sleeping form of his young son. The gun shook in his trembling arms and he fought to control the trembling, this task was made nigh impossible by the slick sweat that covered his arms, he wiped his hands on his blood-stained shirt in an effort to steady himself - the blood a brutal reminder of his dead wife in the next room.
He aimed, the crosshairs settling on his son's nape, and I smiled. I could smell the blood, it pumped through his frightened and confused veins, clung to his shirt and wafted in from the next room, and soon I'd smell the blood of his son when it splattered across the headrest. The man was sobbing now, silent racking sobs that shook his big frame.
"She shouldn't have cheated... Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't..." Hawkins repeated this nigh silently as if it was a calming mantra. It must have worked because half a second later he pulled the trigger, and I watched as the boy's head exploded in a flurry of ichor and gore. The feeling was beautiful, the blood, the rage, the confusion... I opened my jaws and swallowed it all.
It's always fun watching when the veil of rage leaves them, when their mind clears and they see what they've done, simply delicious. Hawkins was no different, when the red fog cleared he saw what he had done, and it broke him. Completely, so very delicious.
I whispered in his ear, stoked his anger again, this time turning his rage at himself, watched him burn under his own gaze.
"What sort of father are you? Killing your only child? You don't even know if she cheated. Assumptions are a sin." I felt his soul wither, "I'll make this right..." He murmured, "I swear, I'll make this right..."
I whispered in his ear one more time, "End it all."
He nodded and put the muzzle under his chin. I lightly gripped his shoulder, "Pull the trigger."
His head exploded in a fountain of blood and gore. I chuckled, not every meal was as entertaining as this, so I left the scene with a hint of slight sadness, it'd be a while before I found another quite like it.