I
sink my teeth into his neck and feel the blood spurt into my mouth. He
struggles, but he's stuck in my clutches and there's no escape. Then I sip to
the last drop of its vital essence. Along with it comes your soul and your
memories. With this, I realize that he has a long history of perverse acts
ranging from abuses, assaults, and murders. Without much effort, I come to the
conclusion that I have done a great favor to the world by ending it. Not that I
care much, but sometimes I like to think that I am a kind of judge and executor
of those who are evil when I choose the worst of the human species as the main
option of the menu. However, most of the time I do not have time to be so
selective and selfless. When hunger comes night inside, instinct speaks louder
and I hunt. Simple like that.
As
soon as everything is over and I look at the scenery. My fearless defender
still remains unconscious. Near him lies the effeminate Curly, with an
incredulous expression on his face. Moe stood near the pole, where I crushed
his skull. Only Larry drafted an escape attempt, so he stayed away from his
companions. The result of that attempted robbery: three dead, one unconscious
and I bloodied. The blood is not mine, of course.
