Source of filth.

Ring master to the center of the stage,
The Shimmer of his blade taunts the crowd.
COWARDS, ATTACK!
The stadium floods for him.

*poof* he vanished.
All erased but a slip of paper.
"Look up"

Battery acid  gushes from his mouth,
Stadium occupants choke on fumes,
Skin rots and melts.
Then heat is felt,
Flames engulf the mass off pain drowning people.

All that is left is what was.
Bodies upon bodies reanimate,
Forming like ancient clan mates.
Solders of toucher,
Beings of dead.
Yes, they bled,
And flames their bed.
There is a relentless master of disease.