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.