In Xenon Phobia, by Sterling Emmal, a doctor decided to hunt down her mother's boyfriend for abusing her sister and her unborn child, Molly. She became so wrapped up in her anger that she couldn’t see the monster slowly trapping her, until finally she became one herself. In Feast, by Thomas Flowers, Titus was so enraged by his son’s mutation that in the end it didn’t seem like anger at all; rather, he carried an icy rage, allowing him to smile happily as he chopped up his son’s assailants and fed them to their mother. In Stephen King’s Carrie, the titular protagonist drowns in her anger, as she massacres a majority of her classmates before finally killing her mother. Movies such as The Lady in Black and Texas Chainsaw Massacre have also made their marks by allowing their characters to give in to anger, and thus beginning legacies that have haunted us for decades. This very rage allows characters to destroy their own sense of morality and consume their demons to create a more horrific nightmare than what is already in front of them. 

We’ve seen what anger does; it doesn’t take a genius to see the emotion in a riot, or a fight, or even the subtle insult. Despite the humorous situations we may find ourselves in, whether it be anger toward oneself or others, anger can lead to disastrous results. It can turn good people into violent monsters, and can lead a careless mistake into a horrendous tragedy that can affect many people. When someone is consumed by rage, there’s no such thing as going too far, and even then morality might as well be just a figment of their imagination. They’ll do things sane people may not be capable of, and venture into territories where their demons hide. 

Throughout history, writers have used anger’s bloody footprints to seek out the depths of their own imaginations. The horrifying tales of mutilation and slavery, the political backlash that led to the downfall of many nations, and even the activism that names a place after a massacre; they all stem from the depravity humanity had long thought it had buried. I love that writers take the time to try to reason out the differences between seething anger and blind fury, however slim the boundary may be. It allows the writer to sculpt other aspects of their characters, traits they might not have known have been there before. Readers also tend to love this kind of rage, the one that transforms innocent victims into serial killers, and heroes into the monster they were trying to kill. At the very least, it brings an interesting twist to the story.

Of course, once the characters realize what they’ve done, a sense of desperation will overcome them. Remorse, guilt, frustration, panic; they’re all side effects that result from this. The brief thought of making amends will cross their minds, though it’d be writhing in agony, as the characters allow themselves to be consumed by even more terrifying thoughts, their compassion eroding away into nothing. They’ll succumb to that anger, until finally, there was nothing of that character left. And only then will they be forced to wait for an inevitable death, one that callously watches them from the dark.