And the moonlight fell across his back, what an ironic sight to see him shaking with laughter, covered in life's rubies from head to toe. His reflection grinning back at him in his life's work, what stained the cement painted a picture of everything he stood for and yet he wasn't exactly were this laughter rose from. This hideous picture of his blackened soul had been painted before him, engraved in stone for him to follow, to raise the blade once more. But there was just some thing he couldn't do then. That hideous roar cutting the thick air like a hot knife through butter, and his soul rebelled even then. To feel skin give way to the lukewarm red the ominous metal devoured with no regard of its own, would've made life better...or at least easier.

But instead of the blood red demon devouring the blade it ran its long sticky fingers over his legs and devoured his heart. And it was so a putrid dark curtain was set over the thundering muscle and it soured just as his life had. Emotion found its self waning, and the light no longer could hold its hand out to it, it fought to be saved if even by a trace but it faded into dark waiting silently to be found. Everything came by standards and regulations, how to do it and when to do it. Don't act to feel alive. Quietly, the darkness had cast its hands out to others and tried desperately to lure the next victim. This..this feeling, if it is even a feeling touching the seems of my soul it feels that I just might be able to take my very first breath. But the world starts to crumble beneath.

I'm a monster I know, one very keen to the embrace of the dark, but as I watch the ground falling to pieces beneath me I can only feel frightened by the darkness appearing below screaming out to me. I'll tear myself to shreds if I have too, these standards, these rules, this symphony of a monster that has been performed, it's sickening. I am sickening, I've stole the breath of the one dearest to me and yet I... I can't stop this darkness I keep falling into, I'm going deeper and deeper into this pitch black abyss but in my own sick and twisted way, I find myself enjoying it. The putrid scent of my own decaying heart, it fills the air, stronger and stronger.

Sometimes I wonder how it does not choke those who co-exist with a monster, how they can not see the darkness looming over their shoulders when I walk beside them. To tell the truth I wish I was like them, but I can't. I never was meant to be that. So I'll turn back and live in this structured house of rules just built for me, because all that I am is a monster, a killer, Dexter.