There’s this habit of mine. Its not like , its something bad. Its just a little annoying habit i have. Not much that anyone else can do about it. To be very honest not much anyone can do about it as long as I don’t let them. You see, I restrict their motions. I stop their heart beat. I set their “soul free”. Oh what the heck. I kill them. And yes… I suppose if you take that into perspective than being a deranged serial killer is a slightly bad habit then.
Do I feel bad? … no no … not at all. Its quite a rush really. Its this magnificent meeting of an energy with your own. It creates quite the rush in you. An unmatched excitement. You feel powerful. Watching yourself control someone else’s life like that. Its just, fantastic.
Well yes, of course I know I am going to go to hell. Into the very deep reaches of hell. Probably have dinner with the lot. Hitler, Longshanks, and every single mindless killer you could think of. We would probably be playing BINGO. Bit of a favorite down there I would like to think.
Killing is an art I would like to think. And I am sure if you take into account the entire gravity in the thinking and the method of the murder, the scene, the circumstances, you would agree with me in saying that it is indeed an art. I express myself, towards the filth that is humanity. The scum of the earth. They kill massively. I kill singularly. I kill for rush of it. They kill for their ulterior motives. I am taken over by a passion. They are taken over by their greed. But of course you already know who I am talking about. The veritable who’s who of the War on Terror, and other blanketed pious missions of the world. Passion above greed. Righteousness over self serving ulterior motives.
I am now babbling as I can sense in your trickling emotions. Your sweat beads, crawling, ever so slowly towards the ground of your skin. Why you are almost pale as a ghost? Could it be because in me you see no remorse? Even thou I have killed many a soul. Including woman and children. Children… yes… I am very sorrowful for the children. But everyone has their destined time and place. Not in my hands! As for women. Haven’t you heard behind every man there is a woman. So be it successful or evil, some woman will always be there lurking about, either as the one that whispers in the ear, or the one who is the object or motive of desire for which the ignominy of evil takes over. It takes control. So no, they can’t be ignored of this list of mine.
I know I face death myself right now. And I am not saying this because of the obvious hanging noose over my head, awaiting to hang me, and serve its existence’s sole purpose. No, I have met death. He came to prepare me. He showed me my destiny for down there, and he showed me my life that has past. And I saw it all, my abused childhood, my rotten afterlife, and all the kills in between. And you know what the dirty little secret is about all of this, I would do it all over again.