Murder

What’s it like to kill someone?

It might feel something like bliss. Like finally letting go of your anger, of letting your emotions run wild after an eternity of imprisonment. It might be something like letting the blood drip down your hands and feeling free.

It might be regret. Horror. The disbelief, because you could never do it, could you? You could never hurt anyone. You’ve never been anything but good. You would never. You’ve always been right and morally superior.

It’s not like that. You’ve always known it might end up like this. A child full of anger and never allowed to show it, combined with a suspicious lack of empathy. You could feel empathy, of course, but it was so easy to ignore sometimes. So easy to ignore, not that you ever did.

What is it like to kill somebody?

It is feeling the blood dripping down your fingers and feeling nothing but bliss. It is ignoring the part of you that whispers that it can’t be real. This is real, this is the most real something has ever felt. It feels like your entire life has been adream and this is the moment you awoke.

Finally, you can settle down. Finally, you no longer have to worry about what you might do, how far you’ll go. You know now. You know what you are capable of, and now you can rest easy knowing that you could never hurt your friends.

There will be consequences later, but for now, it’s just blood. Just blood that you let run down your fingers with a look on your face.