Tuesday, 17 January 2012


Night time. It's the only time there is.

I snap my neck from side to side, visor rendering the world into neat little shadows. It's going to be a fun night. It always is.

I stroll down the block, pausing at the first intersection to pop in my earbuds. The iPhone, God's gift to man. Sleek, portable and versatile. I use it for notes, alarms, music, and of course for phone calls. I might start listening to some Men Without Hats (We walked around in circles singing...), or some Tears for Fears (Could you understand a child, When he cries in pain, Could you give him what he needs, Or do you feel the same...) or maybe some Ministry (A screaming headache on the promised age, Killing time is appropriate, To make a mess and fuck all the rest, We say "So What?", DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE...). Whatever gets the blood pumping.

I wait in an alley, checking the time, the schedules, the habits, the style... And when the right person passes by, I step out.

One step. She's oblivious. Two steps. She hears a noise. Three steps. She starts to turn. Four Steps. I can see her eyes. Five steps. The hammer slides into my hand. Six steps. She sees my eyes. Seven steps. Crunch.

I'm proud of my little tool. I call it a hammer, but it's so much more versatile. One end for smashing, one end for slashing, and a nice sharpened handle for a clean stab to the throat. Truly a masterpiece of modern craftsmanship.

The hammer connects with her face. The nose goes first, snapping, gushing blood onto the pavement. A tiny squeal barely manages to escape her as the hammer continues its journey. The cheekbones go next, caving inwards as the steel goes deeper into her skull. Her eyes pop out from the pressure. Her upper jaw snaps into two as her face is pushed deeper into the hammer's wound. Teeth fall to the ground. Finally, it sinks into her brain, and her body goes limp. All in under a second.

Then comes the tricky part. Sometimes the swing is too hard and I have to give her shoulders a couple kicks to pull the hammer back out. This can take up to two minutes, if I'm particularly unlucky. Then I have to find a place to dispose of the body. Generally a rooftop, if there's an easily accessible staircase. I toss the body onto the ground and strip it, cutting open the clothing and laying it out fully near the body. If I've timed things correctly, it will start to rain just as I'm leaving, cleaning the body and the clothes to my satisfaction. Success.

Then I might go home. Watch a movie. Something nice. Academy Award nominee or the like. Eat some popcorn, unwind, then go to bed.

This is my life.

Now that I know what it's like,
I'll kill them all if I like,
Only time will decide,
No one listened to reason,
It's too late and I'm ready to fight.
So What?

1 comment:

  1. That, good sir, is a poetic achievement of the grandest degree. I actually came here thinking you just liked hitting people with hammers.