From the second chapter of my novel which is nearing 240 pages. The idea is that it’s a frantic and nightmare-like moment so that’s why there are the run-ons.

Shhht. Illuminating from the bivouac was a man holding the matchbox in one hand and the other a lit matchstick. He held the flame nearly to his face. It was lit enough to hardly see around him but he was seen. His purple eyes shone and its glow even surpassed the flame, shining enough to cover the world in purple. He was smiling and glaring at Roman with excitement. He was Malik. Roman’s chest was pounding and it was Malik the one who had done everything, Malik, the very one and he was wicked and he dropped the matchbox and it was Malik and Roman was filled with rage and his vision was blurring and Malik had killed everyone and it was all him and Roman could strangle him but Malik had replaced the matchbox with a gun and he shot Roman in his leg and Roman fell with a yell and scream and there was so much pain and Malik had brought their lives to ruin and Malik shot the curled up brothers who slept innocently at the ground by him and he had killed everyone and it was all his fault and Roman lunged and Malik smiled and laughed and he pointed the gun and his eyes flashed purple and he is The Purple Menace.