Nox Interfectorem

1

07/09/1994

      I've always been fascinated by death. The way it creeps up on you, unexpected and final. The way it takes away everything you have ever known and loved. Some people fear it, but not me. I embrace it.

I suppose that's why I became a killer. It's not something I ever planned or thought I would do, but once I started, I couldn't stop. The rush of power and control I feel when I take someone's life is like nothing else. It's addicting.

I've lost count of how many lives I've taken. Each one different, yet the same. Each one satisfying my twisted desires.

The thing about being a killer is that you have to be smart. You have to cover your tracks, leave no evidence behind. And I am very good at it. No one suspects me, not even the police.

But sometimes, I like to play a little game with them. I'll leave clues, just to see if they can catch me. But they never do. It's almost disappointing.

I often wonder what drives me to do what I do. Is it a deep-seated hatred for humanity? A need for control? Or am I just simply a psychopath? I'll never know for sure. But what I do know is that I will continue to kill until I am caught.

And that day may come sooner than I think. Lately, I've been getting careless. Leaving behind small traces of evidence, taking risks I never would have before. It's almost as if I want to get caught.

But then I remember the rush, the power, and I push those thoughts aside. I am the master of my own fate, and no one can stop me.

So here I am, sitting in my dark, dingy apartment, planning my next kill. It's a rush just thinking about it. The anticipation, the thrill, the satisfaction.

I am a murderer, and I am proud of it. Because in this world, where everyone is just a pawn in the game of life, I am the one holding all the power. And I will continue to take lives until I am stopped. But until then, I will revel in the twisted pleasure that comes from being a killer.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

364 words