*Earth, USA, California, Downtown Los Angeles, June 11th 1994*
Waking up to the sound of pouring rain and violent thunder, John Maxwell began to stand up and gather the few belongings he still possessed.
As he felt the rain dissolve his temporary cardboard shelter, John began packing the backpack he stole from a fellow homeless person two days ago. Placing two patched and dirty blankets, a flashlight and a water bottle in it.
"This is it, everything I own.... put in a single packback." Seeing the half-empty backpack, john sighed as he lamented over his meager possessions.
As he wore the relatively intact rain coat that he also managed to steal, a spark of rage could not help but light up inside of John, fueling the formerly tame fire until it burnt like a raging forest fire, clouding his mind with all the smoke it released.
"Why, why, why, WHY, WHY, WHY, WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!!!!" Screaming until he became lightheaded and as he fought to remain sane at the same time, John fell down to the wet concrete paving on his knees.
Feeling the rage consume him, John began to rein in his emotions. But as he started getting control over himself again, a chilling thought accompanied by single word could not help put appear in his mind.
The thought of making the people responsible for his current situation pay.
The thought of torturing those people until they were as broken as he was.
The thought of ending those arrogant pests by killing them in most painful way.
All of these thoughts laid the foundation for the word that would determine the actions of John Maxwell both in this life, and in his next life.
The actions that would rupture an entire civilization, all for the path of REVENGE!
While kneeling on the ground, the fire that previously burnt inside of him began to die out until all that remained was a frozen landscape with a few waning embers, waiting to torch everything around them.
As his previous grimaced and rage filled expression was replaced with a tranquil, cold and absolutely stoic expression, John rose from the wet concrete and began walking towards the place where his torment started. His home.
Although he had decided to get his revenge, John knew it was by no means an easy task.
First of all, John's "family home" was situated in a high class neighborhood in Santa Monica, which was roughly a 6 hour walk from his current position in downtown L.A.
Walking for 6 hours would certainly be a challenge on it self, but to do it in the ongoing storm and together with his weak, malnourished physique would definitely be impossible.
'This means that my only option is public transport since walking to Santa Monica is not possible with the current conditions.'
'The cheapest bus ticket between Santa Monica and Downtown L.A costs about $1 if I remember correctly'.
Rummaging through his pockets in search of pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters, he managed to amass a total of 56 cents.
'Shit, falling short by 44 cents.... I can't even beg on the sidewalk right now since it's nighttime.'
Realizing that he lacked the funds needed, he could only resort to one thing: Theft.
'Although the alleyway I'm currently in is quite secluded, there should still be one or two homeless people that I can rob'
As he looked around for potential victims, he noticed an older man sleeping beside a green, rusty dumpster.
Despite the horrible off-putting odor that was released by the rotten trash and person, it wasn't anything John couldn't handle.
In fact, this odor was something that John had gotten used to after living in homelessness for the past few months.
'Judging by the heavy alcohol smell and the current time, this old-timer should be knocked out for a few more hours.'
Reassuring himself that his latest target would not notice his approach, John started stealthily walking towards him.
As John got close enough to search the pockets of the older man, a shaky blade suddenly appeared in his vision, accompanied by the sound of it being pulled out of it's scabbard.
*Schwiiiiing*
Despite the sneak attack, John managed to twist his body to the left in time, avoiding the sudden strike and only suffering a light tear to his rain coat.
"Huh... Boy... dOn't You thInK it's rUde To gO tHrouGh sOmEoNe's PocKetS???" The old man uttered in a hoarse, barely audible voice.
"Look man, I REALLY need half a dollar right now, I'll even sell my two blankets to you." As John replied with a steady voice, he secretly braced himself for a fight, should the old man not accept his offer.
"Hahhha, wHy sHoUld I acCePt yoUR oFfEr WhEn I caN jUst RoB yOu InSteAd? noW giVe mE yOur ShiT aNd FuCk OfF."
"Okay, chill dude. Take anything you want." Replying to his threat with the intention of surrendering, John began taking of his backpack.
As he slowly started taking of his backpack, a freezing cold glint appeared in his eyes without him noticing it.
The moment the glint appeared in John's eyes, the old man, named Jim suddenly felt a chill down his spine, stunning him in his place.
Despite not knowing what caused the old man to get frozen in place, John knew that he had to take advantage of moment.
With a violent swing, the backpack that was previously on John's back was now headed for the left side of Jim's head.
*Thud*
Falling to ground as a result of the blow to his left temple, Jim lost grip of his dagger.
*Clang*
As the dagger collided with ground, the distinct sound it made notified John of its rough location.
Quickly reaffirming that the old man was still on the ground, John rapidly bent down and picked up the dagger before holding it in a reverse grip.
Having regained his confidence John began walking towards the fallen old man with resolute steps.
*Click, clack, click, clack....*
Hearing the sound of tattered shoes traversing the puddle filled alleyway Jim looked up, only to be greeted by a cold pair of black eyes, shimmering with a crimson light that was out of this world.
A pair of eyes that exuded a crimson light containing the most evil and heinous of intents.
*Slaaash*
A pair of eyes that he was unable to look away from even when the dagger slashed though his throat and as he succumbed to his death.
---
Feeling the blade cut open the old man's neck, seeing his jugular veins get slashed and stepping in the pool formed by blood caused an unexpected sense of euphoria and ecstacy in John.
A primal feeling that he never knew even existed...
A feeling that made him feel warm and fuzzy...
A feeling he wanted to experience again...
Turning away from the corpse of his first murder victim to make sure that there were no witnesses, John could not help but notice something peculiar about his current state.
'Why is my vision so red...did I get blood in my eyes? And furthermore, why am I so calm???'
Tilting his head downwards to get a look at the reflection formed in the puddles, a pair of horrifying but somewhat familiar eyes captured his gaze, instantly stunning him as he had never seen something so beautiful and evil at the same time.