What is it about murder that makes it so glamorous? I mean, holy shit, it feels great! It's mesmerizing to watch that jet of green light hit your target square in the chest (or in the head, if you're really fucking tripping) and see him drop like a meteorite.
I'll never forget the first time I killed another wizard. He was such a cocky bastard, and I'm surprised I had to be the asshole to end him.
It was on a Thursday evening. I was a seventh-year in Hogwarts. By that time, I had been a death eater for over a year, and I knew the ropes.
I could perform the Unforgivables with relative ease. I only had an issue with the Cruciatus Curse. That shit backfired on me one time.
Imagine a train hitting you, then it somehow turning around and hitting you again. While that's happening, you're in an oven. An oven that keeps shooting knives at you. That's what this felt like.
Murder and mind control came a lot easier to me, as I found it easier to put some power into that stuff.
Anyway, it's Thursday and I'm in the bathroom taking a piss. This asshole named Malcolm Beck comes in and starts pissing right next to me. There were five other fucking urinals in there and he has to take this piss next to me. The whole fucking time he's going, he's looking at me smiling.
"Knock it off," I said.
"Nope," he replied with a bigger smile.
Seriously? I finished up and zipped. Went over to the sink and started washing. I look in the mirror and this marvelous result of incest is turned and pissing on the floor.
I had just enough time to jump out of the way of this river of piss making its way to me. He's still got that stupid grin on, and I've had enough of it. Finally, he forms a sentence.
"Am I pissing you off," he asked me.
Kid, you have no fucking clue. I got my damn wand out and pointed it at him. That piss stream stopped instantly. He looked at me incredulously and started backing up with both of his hands up. I advanced slowly.
Then I pulled up my sleeve and showed him my Dark Mark. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and that was all it took. He sprinted for the exit. Thankfully, I'm a marksman.
"Crucio!"
He STOPPED and hit the damn floor. This kid had pipes. I'm telling you, he could yell. Not only that, but his squirming was pretty top notch.
Tears were in his eyes after a few seconds, and I finally felt that sweet relief that comes with making a lesser-being suffer. Malcolm was only half-blooded. An anomaly, if you ask me.
Seeing as how it was evening, I knew that making noise would surely attract someone, so I told him to shut up. He kept screaming.
"Have it your way. Avada Kedavra!"
BAM! Green light flooded that bathroom and he wasn't squirming anymore. It was one of the first moments in my life that I felt proud. The only other person I'd really killed was my mother, and that was an accident. I'll tell you about that some other time.
Back to poor Malcolm. There he was, dead in a puddle of his own urine. Maybe it would look like he died passing a kidney stone. I wasn't going to stick around to find out.