I dragged the man over to the edge of the alley. It was a dark and lonely night, with most of the city lights gone out already. I spotted a single figure walking towards me on the sidewalk. As soon as he approached my position I grabbed him by his collar and flung him into the alley where the homeless man was. It was a young boy, perhaps 19 or 20 years of age. I struck him in the face, completely shattering his nose, and dropped him to the ground. Behind us sat a blank wall and nothing else. The homeless man and the child had nowhere to run.

I looked at the homeless man and spoke to him. I told him that if he killed the boy I would let him live and give him my expensive clothes and jewelry. He looked at me as if I were a madman. I chuckled at that. It was rich coming from a human of all things. I nodded my head, signaling to both of them that I meant business. I tossed the box cutters to the homeless man and reminded him of what he needed to do.

With little hesitation, the man lunged at the boy, box cutters ready to strike. The child put up his arms in retaliation, but it was of little use. I watched coldly as the cutters penetrated the boy's arm and ripped through his flesh. Blood dripped to the cold hard ground, painting it in red. My creator pleaded with me to stop the homeless man's relentless assault. He told me that I had the power to do the right thing and save the boy's life.

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That we were supposed to be an example and savior for the humans, not monsters. I agreed with him. I did have the power to stop the man. I could save the boy easily at any time I wanted. But I didn't. This was to prove a point to my creator that with the mere suggestion of self-gain, a human would turn on another and strike them down. My creator believed that the main divide between humans was religion. Where was the religious conflict here? All I saw was one man fighting another over money. I saw a man who would kill another just to save his own life.

I tuned out the creator's begging as I witnessed the man advance towards the boy. He raised his foot and brought it down upon the boy's shin. I heard a sickening snapping sound as the boy cried out in pain. I saw tears roll down his cheek as he begged the man to stop. The man did not stop. No, he continued his assault. He punched the boy in the throat and implanted the box cutter deep within the stomach of the child repeatedly.

The child's eyes grew wide as he collapsed to the ground, barely conscious. I saw the man stomp down on the child's face until even the cries and whimpers ceased. And then what I saw after was the most sickening sight of all. The man looked at me with a grin on his face. He was proud of what he had done. He felt comfortable knowing he had inflicted pain on another human being. He was a monster.