Hall of Infinite Doors

You force yourself to stop, and it feels good. Almost as if you just smashed his skull for the first time, you knuckles split and your hands hurt. Your hands are covered in the jogger's blood, but you can tell he will survive. He is on the ground breathing, his chest in a ryhmic cycle. You notice the boy is no longer in the vicinity. Curses! That was your target! You sigh, and get into your van and drive home. At least the evening wasn't a total waste. You shared a moment with the boy in the park. It was awesome. You will have to think about that later tonight.