Diary #5

Hey there readers,
Being a psychology student have given me more imagination than before. Also I sometimes take the things in a different way than I used to take them before. Maybe it is just me or maybe it is real but I think the subject we study influence us very much. Anyways, I don’t exactly remember why I came up with this idea of writing an entry of a murderer but here it is now.

It’s getting easier each time, and as Martin had said it gets beautiful with every shot. But I prefer knife and Martin, well, he is more of a gun guy. He likes to make things quick, just a shot in head and get done with but then what’s the beauty in that? I prefer knife, like the feeling of cold steel against the warmth of my palm and that feeling when slowly my palm gets as cold as the steel. And when the hot, red blood gushed out of the wound, its warmth making my ice cold hands return to their warmth again and red against my pale skin…….every time, it feels like breathing the spring wind after a long winter.

But again Martin don’t agree and I think it’s because he is afraid of blood on his hands. Once I saw him washing hands for almost an hour just because he got sprayed with blood of my kill…just a spray and he won’t stop yelling at me for being careless. Careless? We have never been caught and there is no chance we ever be, but Martin, he thinks that I take that for granted but I just enjoys my job and I am telling ya, this world needs a lot more people like me.

Martin’s getting old for sure, just the other night I heard him yelling and when I got to his room what I saw left me laughing. That man was screaming in his sleep, throwing his arms and yelling to let go at God knows who. I wouldn’t have mind his screaming and everything but then other day he rejected a deal of 50,000 only because it was a kid who was to be kidnapped, killed and thrown in some dumpster to be found by his folks. But Martin, that old man said it’s not a good offer but that is just an excuse…I know he is avoiding kids and women and I don’t understand why. If you ask me killing a kid is more pleasurable than men or even women. They are more delicate, warm, soft and its so easy to leave a mark on them, hold them a little tight and there will be your hand marks all over their little body. But our guy won’t agree no matter how much I convince him and in end the end he said, “Even if I agree to this, you won’t be the one to take this one.” Now what does that mean? Shawn says that our old man remembers the last time I killed a girl of 12 along with her mother, but man, it was a year ago and even I had forgotten of it and what’s there to be upset about it…….what’s a murder without any pleasure.

More of me:
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