Monster
The gentle oozing of crimson liquid dripping down the edge of my blade. The feeling of my primal instincts take over and I no longer recognize what I have become. As I clean up the mess I've made of Mr. Thompson, I quickly wipe my blades with a gentle swipe of a cloth. I whistle to myself as I drag the body into the back room to chop it into pieces. I savour each time my knife cuts neatly into his cold, lifeless body. I allow myself to smile as I think to myself, 'this man helped turn my life into what it is now; he deserved this".
I remember each person I kill, I remember the look in each and every one of their faces as they realise I'm going to kill them. I can't help but grin. I know more about those men than anyone has, or will ever know. I find it funny that in someone's dying moments, you can learn more about them than you can if you've known them your entire lives. You can tell their hopes, dreams and desires. You can see the fear in their eyes and the gasp as they let out their final breath. I now live for that moment.
I don't think I can ever turn back now, I don't think I would want to turn back now. The feeling of power as you take a life, the feeling of superiority as you see them gasp when they see their own blood dripping down their necks and staining their clothes.
I'm a monster, I think to myself. I smile, I'm a monster. A small smile of satisfaction makes its way onto my face. Well, there's no turning back now. As I take Mr. Thompson's lifeless corpse into the back of Mrs. Lovett's shop I grin, I think of how different my life would have been if I hadn't killed Pirelli. Now it's only me and my blades that I have faith in.