been so long since he had created graffiti. His other hand reached down, grabbing another bottle, he shook it up as well and began streaking it across the wall. He breathed in the fumes; it carried him away into a land of tranquility. Streaking back and forth with his two cans, he kept on making the streaks larger and larger. However, he had the forgotten the number one rule of creating graffiti. Don’t. Get. Caught. A flash of grey rocketed at his skull with perfect accuracy. The man felt the grey enter his head as he fell down on the ground. His breathing was heavy, his eyes flitting back and forth. How did he get caught? The city must have been tightening up on security cameras. That wasit. He could feel the grey pained move down his body, finally reaching his heart. The pained infected his heart, setting up a work station. It then pumped more of the dark fluid through his body. His skin turned ghost white, his eyes turned black and his stomach bulged up. His body swelled up, more, and more, until the skin on his body was stretched tight. Finally, it exploded, spreading more of the grey fluid everywhere. There was just enough fluid to cover up the graphic he had been spray painting.
We are the Revs.

The Revs. They are amazing humans. They can see the big picture with perfect clarity. When the Revs first appeared, the government of the city hardly noticed. But as time went on, more and more