Making of a murderer

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to take a human life? I dreamt of it last night.

In my dream, I was riding him hard until at the very last minute,

I ran a knife right through his throat and watched calmly,

As a red blood spurted on my face and my hands

And he gasped and spluttered for breath

Holding on to his throat

Willing the air to stay in his lungs

Knowing that his struggle was going to end in a few seconds

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Yes, it is clichéd but it was the most satisfying dream I had in a long time! The satisfaction was palpable.

The scene changed

This time I stood before him,

With a hand gun that seemed like it was made for me.

Cold metal sleekly fit into the palm of my hand.

I raised my gun and gripped it tightly with both hands,

I could smell his fear

And his feeble cries for mercy

Sounded like music to my ears.

I squeeze the trigger

BAM!

Down he goes,

Blood on the walls.

I sniff the smoke hissing out of the gun, 

Pungent gunpowder

My heart racing and my ears ringing

My blood boiling

My heart swells with joy and excitement.

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins

As I bend over him

And see the light leave his eyes.

I have never been so angry ever in my life. I was unaware that I am capable of murder. But I think I am and I think I will be very good at it.