Murderous Retaliation To Torture  I'm at home in the kitchen. Two men with handguns are there. Another person and I are guarding these men. They are supposed to be our captors, but we seem to be the one who has captured them. We allow them to have handguns but we can't overtly tell them of make them give us their guns, or they'll react violently. One of the men has his gun pointed directly at me. Fire and flames come out of the barrel. They feel intensely hot! The man is torturing me. If I move, he will shoot me, and if I don't, he will torture me with fire. I feel intense pain, but think this is better than being shot. As this continues I feel my energy building, and being held back. At one moment both men have laid their guns on the table. I spring from my seat and attack the men with all the fury and rage that I can muster. The struggle is brief and intense. I kill both men. My sister Heather has also died as a result of my rage. There is a soda pop fountain dispenser there with the Coke emblem on it. The dispenser is razed in my rage: ripped apart. There is a thin white drainage tube in the dispenser. Chloride drips and collects in a tube in the spill tray. This chloride will kill a person. I handle this destroyed dispenser and some liquid out of the plastic tube. I then spit the liquid out and rinse my mouth out with water, thinking that I could have just ingested chloride. I sit in the living room. The fight is over. I lazily read a magazine, wearing my boxer shorts. People are dead, so I guess I should notify the authorities. I call 911. A woman answers and I tell her there has been a sexual torture and murder-I am both the torture victim and murderer. I explain this to a woman very calmly and she tells me authorities are on the way. I wonder if I will be punished for killing them as retaliation for their torture. I walk in the house and wait for the police to arrive. I'm in the living room. I look into the kitchen and see one of the men, who is white. The other man may be black. The man gets partially up, resting his head on his hands, looking at me. He's alive! I'm terrified. He will kill me. I run out the front door of the house, and know that he goes out the back door. I run around the north side of my neighbors the Stein's house. I near a man coming around from the alley, calling out to me. The voice I hear is from my classmate Jackie Hunter. I am in great danger. I need to stay alive until the police arrive. I hope that the police hurry here. I think I see a car drive east on 2nd Street across Home Avenue. It's spray painted with multi-colors, like my housemate Stephen's old car. I know this is the police, and that they're approaching the scene cautiously, going down a block and then sneaking up on the scene.