It felt good to watch him die, that single
moment when you feel the bone in his throat breaking, that single second when
you know there’s no going back. He’s struggling less now as the air leaves his
lungs. The eyes are the oddest thing, when they go all white as they roll back
into the skull, at least he hasn’t urinated.
Satisfied
that he’s dead, I let go and he drops to the floor. It’s now that I feel it,
that moment of pleasure as I realise what I’ve done, and the consequences that
could follow. There is no remorse, no sadness at taking the life. In the end I
suppose he deserved it someway.
I
flex my fingers as the blood flows back into them, they ache slightly from the
pressure exerted on them. It might be slight arthritis; I’ll need to start
taking cod liver oil I suppose if I’m going to continue. I don’t want to be old
with gnarly fingers.
It’s
funny really when I look back on it. The fact I can still see that single
moment when I snapped, when my world crashed down around me. I guess it could
happen to anyone really.
I
had a good upbringing; there were no beatings from my father, no abuse to
report in any way. My holidays were filled with love and laughter and my school
years caused no concerns to me. My job is a little boring, but whose isn’t. I
do like crown green bowling, but I can’t imagine that causing anyone to kill.
No, my problem came to me.
It
was almost a year ago now; I was out in my local shopping centre when I spied
an old carriage clock. It was slightly damaged so it was half price. At the end
of the day, a small scratch on the metal didn’t bother me, so I bought it.
What
I didn’t realise until later was that the scratch wasn’t the only thing wrong.
It took me three months of sitting uncomfortable on the sofa as my world change
before I realised the problem. The clock I’d purchased only had a `Tock`, it
had lost its `Tick`. I tried to take it back but the assistant looked at me
like I was mad.
She was the
first to go. I followed her home one night and waited until she was asleep,
before I suffocated her with the pillow. It was the most orgasmic feeling I’d
ever had, nothing in my life had prepared me for the feeling that taking a life
gives you. Nothing.
From
then on, I tried to re-experience the feeling at least once a week. Stabbing
turned out to be very messy and I didn’t like guns. So I returned to the
simplest way possible. Now, simple strangulation is enough to keep me going. My
last review in work was good and I’m up for a promotion now my manager was
found dead.
Please
don’t judge me. I didn’t go looking for this; it was just a simple mistake to
have sold the clock in the first place.
But just listen to yours now.
Go on, listen.
Hear it?
Tock,
Tock,
Tock….
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