Dark clouds smudged the black canvas of night, a viscously gracious sight. Continuing the pattern that proceeded today, the downpour of rain relentlessly hazed the capabilities of vision.

Leaving Sarah's apartment with nothing but a grin, etched ever larger by the lipstick shade known only as crimson blood, every step revealed the state I was now in.

Slowly divulged by the streetlights, an unveiling of blood-stained clothing, drenched in the inner liquids of Sarah's body. Hair now draped, constricted together with clots of blood, and bathed within the onslaught of rain.

Each footstep echoed and dampened, a colossal weight that had made these footsteps harder to manage, was now exorcized.

Now Sarah was finally behind me and David, we could seek future opportunities, new endeavours to occupy both minds from needlessly spiralling.

A true hobby is needed to balance oneself, the stabilisation of one's mental states is key when venturing into the cold world; the world is not forgiving and thus equilibrium is always required.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Adrenaline – a car drifting through the streets of my veins, screeching at the roads of my tunica intima. Burning rubber and open eyelids connected to an accelerated heart rate.

My third kill, and the buzz from it seemingly not too eager to subside. With this adrenaline, the peak seemed never-ending, a true junkie to the taste of blood and the reverberations of screams.

With each high pitch cry, my body would begin to tingle with the oscillating cries feathering my skin. A subtle brush that led goosebumps to perk and bristle, roughing my gentle smooth skin, creating a scale-like affect.

In this moment I was no longer a man, but a creature of habit, a creature led by his instincts to kill – a monster. This truly did please me, for it takes a monster to protect against monsters, also the artwork that was created just moments ago left me genuinely giddy.

But time would turn against me, become my nemesis as no longer could I wait for the opportunity to strike. I now had to plan and edge myself toward the kill, for the foreplay would make it so much more invigorating.

But who is the target?

which individual would give me the most needed pleasure that I now crave?

Although I now had an itch, it was not overwhelming in nature, I was able to push it to the back of my mind, but did I want to?