He was arrogant,
from that I knew
when I first laid my tearless eyes upon him.

I watched and partook in a distinct arousal
that only killers can feel
when a soul is trapped inside its tortured body.

I watched silently,
as still as the darkness itself
as he stripped the very skin from his prey.

Nothing else can compare the sound of screams
issuing from the mouth of the dying.

The sharp constant pain resounded
as a bell chime would,
spreading out over his deaf basement walls,
to my willing ears.

I felt nothing sympathetic for the ******.

This man,
this man, insane and still fully sane
became another one of my countless prey.

How enticing!

This man,
who killed others,
intrigued me.

I want to touch him,
to kiss those lips set in a hard line,
red and full against his pale face.

Those gray eyes as cold as my flesh brought me into him.

Oh yes.
I will **** him in such a way
that he would wish he was never born.
OH YES!

The devastation of his retribution
would be so total
that there would be no place within his mind
in which he could retreat.