Member
I just needed a break from work, you know? Lately, I've been thinking about all the people I've had to kill.
God.
The first five, ten times you take a life, it's eerie.
You remember every detail.
I can see all their faces.
One had a beard.
Each time I pulled the trigger, I tied a little knot in my memory that no amount of whiskey could loosen.
'Course eventually, I stopped caring.
Now I can put a bullet through a man's head while figuring out how much KFC to pick up on my way home.
It's usually no more than a bucket.
The sick part is, I've come to love it-- snuffing out lives.
I crave it.
I feel like an angel of death.
The Messenger of Eternal Darkness.
A merciless demon with an unquenchable.. Oh, they just put more orange chicken in the buffet.
Got to run.
