I kill. Ruthlessly.

You’d think they would have some respect, considering how big of a person I am. But no. They just can’t resist the unnatural urge to drain me. I had shown no interest in their short lived lives. I chose to ignore the whining in my ear. The unwelcome symphony orchestra.  Until they stole from me and left me in great pain. I just couldn’t hold back anymore.  They have turned me into a stone cold, blood thirsty killer, just like them. I have fallen completely in love with the sight of blood on my hands. The act of murder feels more intimate that way. I make contact with the victim, satisfying my psychotic desires.  I guess I shouldn’t describe it as murder, because it’s justifiable to me. Cowards, they wait for the cover of night to perform their well-rehearsed evil. I also wait, till they are drunk and weak. Then I pounce mercilessly.  Totally annihilating them with stone cold resolve.  Every body that falls, a personal victory.Sometimes I employ a simple gas chamber.  A truly remarkable creation of science.  It gives me the power to almost commit genocide-my dream of ridding the world of this twisted misandric race will be achieved, someday!  I am ashamed of who I have become, but just like them, I cannot control the unwholesome urge anymore.  I kill mosquitoes, ruthlessly.