Mind of Madness

Dreams. Nightmares. One and the same, at least for this man. Madness suits him well, but he's partial to the occasional flash of sanity. There is no method to his madness, though there is a constant rule: No blood. The man may attack, but there must never be blood. Black shirts and black jeans, the never-changing attire of the Madness. Hair, constantly mussed, and eyes never still, always flickering from one point to another. His unpredictable lifestyle worries many, but never himself.
This man is the Madness. That his name, his title and the only description many can give. And this... Is his nightmare.