I like colors. Love them, our world is full of them after all. Many different colors surround me at the moment, the brown hardwood. The white suit jackets sprawled out on the floor, and the red, God, the amount of red I can see. Hell, my hands are covered in it. It was always my favorite color as a kid. Now I see why. Truly, see why. Upon inspection, you wouldn't even know my bat was a nice,dark beige, the only part not covered in blood was where my hands were placed. The matte black finish of their guns went well with the red splatters on the floor. It almost looked like a painting. Hmph, maybe I should sign my name somewhere. I take off that ridiculous pink pig mask and take a breath through cracked lips. My job is done here. Another day, another chunk of the Russian mafia dead.

My white sneakers go into auto pilot, carrying me towards the exit three floors down. I drag my baseball bat along the blue tiled walls. What a God awful choice, doesn't even match the floor. Down the hall, take a right and I'm out of this place. The same asshole who got in my way was still there, than again what did I expect, for him to just walk away after what I did to him? As I approach the exit I inspect the slumped over mess of a corpse, head bashed in, chest collapsed in on itself. I probably broke his ribcage when I rammed into him with the door. I grab the gray handle of my car door and get in. Time to start the ride home. The same usual stuff was on the radio. What's really keeping me entertained is the sunset. I should pay more attention to the road. Finally in bed. My eye lids feel so heavy. I need to get plenty of rest for tomorrow, because it's just gonna be the same crap, another killing spree. But I cant say i don't enjoy it.