I can't wait

I stare at the gray walls, reading for what must be the millionth time the graffiti plastered all over it. My hands clench into fists. This place is a living nightmare, but that's probably deliberate, what with it being jail and all. The picture of Overcast and Black Torrent is right behind me, looking down mockingly at me.
With a whirl, I spin around and punch Torrent's image in the face.  My hands are already bruised, but I keep pounding, plotting what to do to them when I get out. They can't keep me in here forever, there's no proof I killed anyone, Just that I robbed a corner shop and damaged the security cameras. And it must have been a few months since they locked me up here, but it's hard to tell.
If only the picture on the wall was more than a picture, if only I had them in here for me to beat to a pulp. I picture the way they would look if I got my hands on them. Blood dripping down their faces, staining their costumes, tears squeezing themselves from their eyes, trying to keep from crying out. The scent of stale sweat, blood, and salty tears. A laugh bubbles up my throat. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. So, so much fun. All the people who say revenge is wrong, they've never been hurt or wronged. I laugh again, this time louder and more freely, and don't stop.
This is how the guards find me hours later when they bring us our evening meal.  Laughing and beating the already ruined image on my wall. It's no wonder the youngster who has the misfortune to be on duty shoves the food through the hatch in the door hurriedly without a word. As I pick my way through the unpleasant mystery meat I notice my extra pens and paper have arrived.
This means tonight is plan night. Everything has to work perfectly once I get out of here. There will be no room for mistakes, and no time to waste.
First, I'll need to get some money, and I think that killing some prostitutes in the morning when they'll have been paid sounds like an ideal way to do it. No-one cares if a couple of them go missing. Then I'll have to steal a computer, no way will I be able to buy one legally, unlike the camera I want. The deaths of Gale City's most famous superheroes must be recorded and streamed live to the internet. Nothing puts off crime fighters more than watching their heroes be brutally killed. I shake my head, trying to stay focused. I'll need an abandoned warehouse or something similar, and I have multiple places that could be used. I love what I do for a living. I already have a supply of knives, bats, clubs, rope, chains, and a couple swords which I'll admit, I have a soft spot for. But nothing can match the power of my rifle, despite how painless the death it brings is. I'll draw them to the selected spot by posing as an innocent concerned citizen who has information on a kidnapping. If they get into my van (mental note, van needs replacing) I can knock them out with gas as long as I seal the back, and then they're all mine.
A shiver ripples down my spine as I allow myself to slide down the wall and sit on the floor. I cradle my bloody fists as I stare out my tiny window, watching the tiny patch of sky I can see. It's almost night. One more day gone. One day closer to getting my revenge, to fulfilling my dreams of killing Overcast and Black Torrent. Those fools thought locking me up would get rid of me. I can't wait to make them pay for their soon-to-be fatal mistake.