I screamed. Ray Lewis stared at me with his soulless eyes, hardened by years of being a linebacker for the Baltimore Ravens. The clown army, the knife covered in blood, sandstorm, and my brother's disappearance could not be compared to the sheer terror that I experienced being trapped in a room with the most terrifying defensive lineman in the AFC North and alleged murder. Contrary to my expectations of being fiercely tackled then stabbed, He just stood there and stared at me. "D-do, do you know where I am!?" I stammered. He maintained his stoicism and failed to respond. "I'm just trying to find my brother and mom." As a lifelong Steelers fan I was raised to despise this man and his little run in with the law did not ease my conscience, but I figured that he wouldn't hurt me if he hadn't already. If he helps disadvantaged youth in Baltimore, he would surely help a scared sixteen year old girl find her family, right? I could sense that something was off with him. Ray Lewis started to shake, and he fell to the cold concrete floor of the small room where we were trapped. His face began to morph, and his body was beginning to take a new form. His white and purple jersey changed to green. The fifty-two on his chest changed into a number seven. The docile Ray Lewis had transformed into a force of true evil: Michael Vick. "You look like a fighter, just like my dogs.." He chuckled..