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Through the Eyes of Death
Death is inevitable. The question isn’t if it will happen or where or even why. The real question is how. I will show you how. I will show you the many roads to death. I will teach you fear, anguish and even the horror of knowing that the end is coming soon. You know it to be true, and yet you cannot stop its dance toward you. There is pain in death, not peace.
How will you die? Of course, this question isn’t posed for you to decide your fate. That is something I will decide for you. Rather it’s posed as a question to see if you have the curiosity or desire to know what will cause you to take your last breath.
I take no joy in bringing you to your final moments. I do not pride myself in what must happen to you. However, I must admit a certain amount of delight, even excitement, in gathering the knowledge of how the process of death affects you.
Rest assured, you are not the first to die at my hands and most certainly will not be the last. Each before you died in different ways. Every death teaches me something that could never be learned through conventional edification.
I am curious. How did you think you would die? If I hadn’t come into your life, did you think you would grow old and die in your sleep? Did you think that perhaps you might die in a random accident? Did the prospect of death by violence ever occur to you? I am sure you’ve thought of such things. Will you tell me?
That’s okay. I really didn’t think you would want to cooperate. I am sure that you consider all of this to be some variety of perversion. You think I am crazy or maybe a psychopath, don’t you? Maybe you’re right! As a matter of fact, let’s assume for the moment you are. If that is truly what you believe, then it’s only right that you have something to be correct about before you die. That would only be fair, don’t you agree? So, as the psychopath you believe me to be, I think it would be best if I were to describe to you the manner of your death. I hope that you appreciate knowing that the end will come soon. Unfortunately, it won’t be as soon as you hope. The pain you must endure will most certainly cause you to lose consciousness. Unfortunately for you, I am obligated to go slowly.
In front of you are several extremely sharp instruments; the purpose is surely evident. You’ll bleed to death. Furthermore, your skin will be removed layer by layer. Your blood will seep from your body and your life will flow down the drain beneath you. There really is no easy way to say that, is there? Instead of tiptoeing around the matter, you need to know for certain what will take place.
If there is an afterlife, I hope you have a good one. Your death will not be in vain. In time, all of this knowledge will be shared, and you will be elevated to the status of martyr.
Every living soul has a story to share. My story is really no different from another’s. In time, you might think of me as a monster. Yet I’m really not that different from you.
If you were to know me, you would identify an honest, hard-working person. I sweat and bleed just like you. I pay my bills and taxes just like you.
I have an occupation that requires my attention, diligence, even mercy—just as you might. I have hobbies that keep me distracted from the ritualistic boredom of day-to-day life. I play the sax for comfort. I work with wood, not to mention sharp instruments, because I love being creative. But for sheer entertainment and intellectual stimulation, I kill.
Do you really want to know me? I’m not so sure. I read in the papers daily about your obsession with the likes of me. So just this one time, I will tell you what it’s like.
For those who might enjoy my thoughts, don’t even think about joining me. I will find you and, like the others who have tried, destroy you. For the rest? Sleep well.
It’s at night that the horror truly manifests itself.
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