Lots of thoughts can go through a person’s head, 60,000 in a mere day at average. Things like what to eat, and who to talk to, collective thoughts of the normal person’s day. What about those who are special, not “special” like the masses call it. No, truly special, wolves among sheep. What are there thoughts like? What do they normally think about? What do they differently than everyone else? Is there something wrong with them? So misunderstood is the need to kill. It’s a feeling a select few get, and it is controllable for most. It’s one of those feelings you just can’t shake, but know it would be foolish to act upon. Of course, you would ponder over the feeling, and what it would be like, to take a life. How exactly could you? You’d be caught, or could you get away with it? Sometimes people do act upon these feelings. They may do it once, and it may be someone they hate, or love even. It could be a random person, who gave off the perfect vibes. If you, or anyone else, acted on those feelings, what WOULD happen? Would they simply perish, persist, or grow stronger?
This urge is not unnatural, it is simply nature. Morality is a blind on a window, closed during a beautiful day. If morality did not cloud ones mind, then the need to kill would be felt by every living being. Some are born with the need, the blind of morality opened. Some go through intense mental and physical issues, in which morals are no longer a factor. Either way, they are freed from the awful blind of morality, free to do things others would not. Even in those who were once innocent, or seem innocent, we all know that innocence never lasts. Some may say that we are broken. Some may say we are abominations. Some may even say we are freaks. I don’t think that’s right at all, you see, all the masses and “normal” people are just sheep, poor little lambs waiting for the slaughter. I don’t think we’re broken, crazy, or anything of that nature. I like to think of us as wolves.
I’ve always wondered what it’s like for a normal person to grow up, to feel emotion and be involved with society... to fit in. I never did that, I have always been an outcast, a loser. I could tell you about how I was bullied and how I was neglected, but I don’t need to. The only thing lying between me and freedom is a scalpel. A scalpel I use to cut open then metaphorical cloth covering my freedom. It’s not always a scalpel, though, sometimes the door needs an extra “push”. Freedom can come in any form, the freedom I feel when I cut into the flesh of another person is... freeing enough. The need for freedom comes in every person, and every animal. Who are the police to take that freedom away? It’s a struggle doing this, what I do. It takes so much effort just to find out where to dump the corpse.
I’m sick of wondering, is it this way or that way? At night or day? I just want to do what I love, without the fear of being locked away like an animal, but then again, that’s what I am, right? I’m an animal, I rip the flesh and bone from people almost every night. Like a wolf among sheep, I stalk the prey with full intention to take them the first chance I get. I don’t play games, I get in, get out. The real fun begins when I lie them down on my table. The sensation of feeling the thick, warm, blood is just so enticing. The gooey innards make it even better. Oh, Celestia, I love the feeling of taking a life. Some people kill with one strike, and then dump the body, just to feel what its like. I like to enjoy it, to savor it.
When I kill someone, I feel their pain, I TASTE IT. I understand how they feel, and I love it. I know how scared and defenseless they feel, how much pain they go through. I KNOW how they feel, and I want it that way. Some people say that people like me don’t know any better, or lack a conscience, but what makes a man truly sick, is knowing that he would feel the same way if he were put in that position. It makes it so much better to be able to share the pain with the victim. A connection that not many of “my people” have with their victims. Thinking about this does no good, however, maybe it does never mind that, I have someone to attend to, I’ll get back to this thought eventually.
“Whe- where am I?” a young girl, no older than twenty, such a beautiful one at that. “Why am I strapped to this table? Oh, Celestia, what did I do last night?” she wasn't as startled as I thought she’d be, probably gets into these situations a lot. “Am I in some kind of bondage thing? Look, if you’re cute we can get this done, but I’ve got to get going soon.” Well, the little whore does get herself into these things often, doesn't she? I’m not the man to take advantage of anyone, but she’s letting me, so why not?
“Hey there, sleep well?” I said with a smile on my face, being as charming as possible. Shirt off, chest exposed. Her eyes fixed at my face, and then my chest. She liked what she saw, Jackpot. She was already nude, and it’s not like I did on purpose, I strip all my victims. It’s a little hard trying to cut into someone when they’ve got all there clothes on.
“Hey...” she said, smiling, trying to hide her red cheeks. “Ready to get started?” I said, trying to act as natural as possible. “Sure, cutie.” she winked as she said this, and I decided to take the chance, seeing as it had been months since I had been with a woman. “Getting some” wouldn't be too bad right about now, I have been pretty stressed. “Alright then.” I said, pulling my pants down slowly to tease her, then she fucked up. She lost her last time to have sex, even though I’m sure she’s had plenty of it. She begged. It always gets me, it makes me want to just... well, kill them. I wanted to kill her so badly, so I untied her, and flipped her over. “Wait, what are you doing?”
I spread her cheeks wide, she hadn’t had anal sex yet. “What are you doing? I’m not ready for that yet! Please, don’t!” A wicked grin spread across my face, and I was ready. “Please No! NOT IN THERE!” I let out a cackle, and flipped her back onto her back, exposing her stomach. Still grinning I pulled up my pants. I put my finger in her exposed pussy, and went in as deep as possible. she let out a whimper and bit her lip. “Okay, I’ll tell you what,” I said, removing a large knife from my back pocket. I placed it lightly on her stomach and said “Let’s go deeper.”
