I kill to once again be in the presence of my adoring Bianca. Though tired and often confused from lack of nourishment, I have hope our reunification is approaching.
I am a hunter.
The castle is in sight and though I go alone, I am fearless. My strength is lifted by the thought of the satisfaction that will come with the sweeping violence I will cast upon the King and his minions. A feat that the others before me dared not attempt, their heightened boldness ceased at civilians.
I am a warrior.
My horse succumbed to a bloody altercation long before I set foot on the canyon’s ridge. Our companionship had to end as he would bring attention to my presence once the invasion of the fortress begins. His demise and tortured appearance provoke power within me, a taste of victory.
I am a needful man.
I cup my hands and drink vigorously from the stream’s crystal-clear water, sparkling even as the dark clouds roll over. The thunder rumbles, exciting my inner being.
I am a monster.
My black cloak, and scarred face hide my identity as I creep through the royal quarters, slashing and dehumanizing the people within, taking from them their status, riches, happiness and even their woes. Shells of beings now scatter the premises, I rejoice, satisfied with the horrific ruin. I will go home to my Bianca with the spoils of war having obtained a second urge, to pleasure her in every way.
The front page of the Britannia Times referred to me using unknown terminology amid confusion as to why such a brutal crime would’ve taken place – less a robbery.
I am a serial killer, adding new fear to the land.
Leesa Writes 