Diaries of a Serial Killer
[I]He turned and took one look at the blade that had been in my hand. Once more i had seen the look in his eyes as I had once seen in her own.
He tried to move, but was not fast enough. He was an old fat dirty man. He was bad and I was going to make sure he knew what he did was wrong. The liitle girl moved over to a corner of the room and crawled up into a little ball hiding her eyes.
He was slow moving. He could hardley handle me as he once handled the helpless girl. This time it would be he who was being man-handled. I struck him hard in the face with the handle of the blade. So hard he fell to the ground and bled from the mouth.
It was time, time for his release from this life. I lifted him to his feet. The fat bastard had a look in his eyes that was different from hers. He knew he was going to die, but the look was for a different reason. It was a look of knowing that the children he had once kidnapped and abused had all come foward and now he was feeling their pain.
I dug the knife deep into his stomach. I sunk the blade deep in, swiftly puliing it up to slice through and bury the blade deep into his lungs. Blood drooled from his mouth as he clutched a death grip around my wrist which held the knife. Finally he had been delivered as his lifeless body fell foward falling to the ground.
He tried to move, but was not fast enough. He was an old fat dirty man. He was bad and I was going to make sure he knew what he did was wrong. The liitle girl moved over to a corner of the room and crawled up into a little ball hiding her eyes.
He was slow moving. He could hardley handle me as he once handled the helpless girl. This time it would be he who was being man-handled. I struck him hard in the face with the handle of the blade. So hard he fell to the ground and bled from the mouth.
It was time, time for his release from this life. I lifted him to his feet. The fat bastard had a look in his eyes that was different from hers. He knew he was going to die, but the look was for a different reason. It was a look of knowing that the children he had once kidnapped and abused had all come foward and now he was feeling their pain.
I dug the knife deep into his stomach. I sunk the blade deep in, swiftly puliing it up to slice through and bury the blade deep into his lungs. Blood drooled from his mouth as he clutched a death grip around my wrist which held the knife. Finally he had been delivered as his lifeless body fell foward falling to the ground.