The story so far:
I always loved how the moon looked on a clear, cloudless night, hovering like a worn out lightbulb in a sea of darkness. As I rise from an early slumber, I see it, the definition of perfection lighting the crystal clear night sky. No sunset, or sunrise, or clear sunny day at the beach, could ever amount to the level of beauty before me.
I roam the streets, a shadow defined only by the neon lights and passing cars, searching, waiting, hunting. Across the street, a group of young women, all in skimpy shirts and tight jeans, talk of past lovers and ex-boyfriends who cheated. Not suprising, nor unexpected. My breath hangs in front of my face, and yet I am not cold, nor does it really get cold on the average Miami night.
I slide past them, careful not to disturb the Blonde, she looks like a bitch. Most times people dont even realize I'm there, even when I do decide to strike. At least, not until they have, oh, what are they called these days? Out Of Body Experiences? I think thats the right word. Yeah, definately the right one.
Finally, the one I've been waiting for... a young man, maybe 22 years old, in a brand new car, drunk as ****. His name is Leon, and he drinks way too much. I move, quickly, and feel his neck snap against my hand. His life drains from his eyes, which become clouded and dull in moments. Leon's car careens out of control... and right into the path of those unsuspecting girls and that bitch blonde. This one will make newspapers, with the headline "Drunk Driver Kills 7 In Accident". I'm so good at what I do, even the security camera across the street didnt catch me in action.
Killing is my business, but not in the Hitman, mafia way that they show in the movies. I dont wear suits or cloaks or any of that stereotypical **** the Bible or any of the various paintings of me show. I'm not gothic, not emo, not hardcore. I am faceless, heartless, compasionless. I prey on those who have thrown their lives away, so that the faithful few can have everlasting peace, while the damned are forever tortured in the pits I came from. I am Loki, Bartlebi, Beezlebub, take your pick. I am Death, and I am watching you.