It was so, so easy. Surprisingly so.

I’d followed this guy for close to a month. I knew his daily routines. The route he took to and from work. Where he bought his groceries. I knew all his habits.

I knew where the best place to catch him would be. If it was a nice day, he rode his bike to work. When he did, he always turned down this one alley going home at night. It was usually pretty deserted at night.

I stood off to one side of the alley, a rope in my hands. When I heard him coming, I pulled the rope taught. Just as I had planned, it caught him right in the throat. And he was going fast enough when he hit, he couldn’t scream. All he could do was choke.

I stood over him, and thrust the knife into his heart. It was amazing. A little tension before the blade pierced the skin. The knife was so sharp, flesh and muscle parted like water. After penetrating his heart, I sat there, holding the knife, and watched the life seep out of his eyes.

It was easy.

Now comes the hard part: living with the nightmares.