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Before leaving, Jeremiah "Jerry" Larkin decided to watch the place around him, looking crooked and pale. Rather than feeling ill, he felt like he grew roots and he was now engrained. Each of his thoughts were about his revenge and his anger toward Nancy, he felt the hate boiling inside of him. Nothing matter other than the anguish inside of him. Donning a mask, he didn't respond to Michael either. After all, he didn't have to reveal his plan. Nobody could reach him since he was lost in the midst of his thoughts, exploring a world far away from the island, or even the world.

Without a light, the place he explored wasn't a nice one, it was filled with corpses and suffering. It wasn't pretty, nothing was good, everything was rotten to the core. Idealizing the earth, the one that died a long time ago, the one who died quietly in night, he shaped it back up. Laborers dug and constructed mansions. Lovers spread the word about their new hero.

Killjoys showed the real face of Jerry, the real him. ''I didn't think he was like that,'' said many of the lovers and laborers of the new world. Liars decided to bring up the dirt on his shoes, pointing the vile thoughts he had. Ladies of the night enticed Jerry back into the pain of the game, leaving him numb and crying in the bath as he thought about the deads and the losts.

He was now covered in the blood of his victims, yet he stood in the world he shaped. ''I'm sorry,'' he begged to his victims. Many didn't know how to react before the blades fell unto them, before the bullets pierced them, before the hands fed on the air in their throats.

He did it to survive. But in the world he shaped, no-one treated him as the winner. They all treated him as the biggest loser. They either pitied him or feared him. Jerry hated both them, so he removed them from his life. Then he went for the people that adored him, the ones spreading pictures, videos, interviews of him. He made them leave.

Last, he decided to exile out the ones that didn't care, the ones that were indifferent to him,



(Jerry left the set)



and when he was over, God's sentinel was on its way toward him.
me by naft
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