Gemotions

"Sorry, Mr. Harding," the patent lawyer said, his voice a drone. "It's been done." James felt the blood drain from his face. His device, a cure for the rare disease that had taken his wife, was already a reality, owned by a soulless pharmaceutical giant. He felt a cold rage.

He stepped out of the lawyer’s office into the bright, bustling city. The joy of the city seemed to mock him. His wife's memory fueled the smoldering fire inside him. The faces on the street blurred, merging into a single hateful mass.

He started a blog, a crusade. He documented the pharmaceutical company’s shady dealings, their price gouging, the corners they cut. He found disgruntled former employees, whistleblowers, and he encouraged them. His anger became his weapon.