‘Over the Moral Border’ by Henzo

Are you aware of your own insanity? I have tried to ignore my urges for years but my compulsion grows stronger. They say that my mental capacity lacks the comprehension to know why I do the things that I do. But I do know why…

It all started when I was fourteen. The sun blissed over us all as covers were pulled over people’s eyes to mask my depression. My parents did an exceptional job of hiding it. Love was scarcely spread around my household; I was the only one who seemed to suffer – often for the price of nothing. We were bankrupt over a series of a few dodgy deals. Times were hard but the lethal whips I endured were harder. My dad was an animal, I took pride in killing him. Bleeding, pleading and leaking, I brutally pummelled his useless carcass with a hammer. I enjoyed hearing his cowardice squirms as he begged relentlessly for mercy. I felt his blood caress my lips and I devoured the taste. He was my first awakening and I knew I could not stop after that glorious rebirth.

I had always been discreet, sneaky and cautious. I knew how to blend into a crowd (I moved in the shadows). When I worked I never left a crumb of evidence; I was hardly ever traced. By the time they caught on I would be in another town under a different identity. After ten years of moleculous control, there comes a time when you become too confident and start to lower your guard. This was a hidden blessing in disguise! For many years I had deprived myself of the ultimate satisfaction of a messy crime scene. I became more gruesome and I found a renewed profound happiness in my system. The sloppier the event the more enjoyable it became. It had gotten harder to maintain, waiting months on end for the dust to settle – just too dull and unbearable. It was that decision to relax and treat my work more like a sport than a professional job which requires excellence. That discovery changed my life for the better.

God was nice to me during my tenure. I was never in any shortage of cattle and they weren’t really capable of putting up a fight. My life has been stimulated by many brave breeds of mammal low-lives who feel the need to viciously attack me with their unkind thoughts and feelings. I am forced to put myself in the frontline having to deal with these animals so I should surely be entitled to a little fun. I am doing a public service and exercising my human rights. The things I have done shouldn’t even be considered a crime. I slaughtered those negative attention seekers and I am sincerely unapologetic for doing the right thing. People love to throw labels: “evil” and “guilty”. People love to throw shade at me. They don’t even realise that they could be next. They will die slow. Imbeciles!