I killed a man once. I didn't really need a reason, I just wanted to do it.
I walked around downtown for a few weeks memorizing the lay of the land and deciding who would make the best target. I knew it shouldn't be anyone who stood out from the crowd. Someone who fit in, but not too well. I didn't want his absence to be noticed. At least not right away.
It was hot the night I did it. Really hot. You could hear people sweating. The typical street trash and college kids didn't seem to mind, seeing as they were all whacked out of their fucking skulls. I'd have shot one of them, but I doubt they would have noticed.
Sitting at a table at my favorite sidewalk cafe, waiting for a mark. I take a sip of tea, look up and see the perfect specimen leaving the office building across the street, making a left out the door. Off-the-rack suit, nice shoes, quality briefcase. A mid-level manager. Even from across the street I can tell this guy's single, and probably hasn't ever seen a pussy. No ring, an unsure gait, and the way he's looking at those fucking girls? Christ, he might as well wear a sign proclaiming his virginity. Nobody's gonna miss this fucking loser. Although, I'm still not sure I don't want him to be missed by somebody. Fuck it, it doesn't matter. He's got my blood up.
Up from my table and follow him from across the street. Jesus I'm tired of dodging stoned kids and drunk bums. This part of town is the asshole of the universe. It's my pleasure to drill one of these wastoids. Where's he going? Down an alley? Does he want to die?
Across the street, dodge a cab and a drunk, and into the alley. He's picked up his pace. Obviously a shortcut home, but he knows better than to be here longer than he has to. This feels like a good place.
Back onto the street and a right down the block. Into one of the decrepit apartment buildings. Follow him to the door and walk past. He has to have a decent job, why's he living in this shithole? Probably sends his money to mommy and daddy back in Worthless, North Dakota. I don't really give a damn.
Yes, he'll do just fine. I think I'll get laid tonight and plan to whack Mr. Shoes tomorrow. It's a good plan.
It's 7:30, where the fuck is he?! Yesterday he left at 7 sharp. I don't like irregularities! Maybe I'll kill him slow to punish him for doing this to me. I'm giving him ten more minutes, then I'm out of here. Wait, no, YES! There he is! Worthless bag of shit. That's right, back to the alley. You're walking even faster tonight. Don't worry, I'll find a way to slow you down. It's a good thing for you Mark and Beth are waiting for me at the bar, or tonight would be your night.
7:15 and here comes my boy. I can hardly wait. Take your time, Shoes. You're my only date tonight. Stop and talk to one of those pretty young things prancing around you. She's so lit up she'd let you plow her at the mere hint of it. She wants you to. What a story she'd have for the cheerleading squad!
"Oh-my-gawd! I think he was in his forties, and he had this great tattoo of a goth chick or something on his pec, and I swear I thought I was gonna choke on his cock!"
Too bad you're such a fucking loser. If you didn't blow your wad inside of thirty seconds she'd probably pass out and you'd quit popping her, thinking you were raping her. And even if you did nail her, would you stretch the story a little like she clearly would? Probably not you fucking coward. I doubt you have any friends to tell it to anyway.
I never noticed how great the shadows in the alley were before. You'll walk right by me and never see me. Fuck I'm excited. I'm shaking I want it so bad. That's right, walk into my alley. Come meet your end.
DEATH ROW - SOME YEARS LATER
He walked past me and I stepped out, matching his stride. For a minute I didn't know what to do, I just kept walking behind him. He never heard me. He never heard the gun come up. He never heard me cock it. The last thing he probably did hear was me dropping the hammer on him.
It was euphoric. When I pulled the trigger, it was like the whole world slowed down. I watched the bullet enter the back of his head, and the spray of blood and brains explode from the other side. The muzzle flash lit up the whole alley. I still see it like a vivid picture in my mind. I see it more clearly now. I actually see the bum hiding in the corner now. I don't remember him from that night, but there he is. The look on his face is what makes it all worthwhile.
When I did it, I felt good. Calm and at peace with the world. As I followed his body to the ground with my piece, I couldn't have felt better. Remember Pulp Fiction, when Vincent shoots up at Lance's place and then he's in his Malibu? That's how I felt. Like I was gliding, and nothing could bring me down.
The second shot was unnecessary. The first one had obviously done the job, but I wanted more. That feeling of immortality when you unleash a round of .45ACP into someone's head. All that power yielding to your control, the ability to take life in a compact, sexy package.
I put the gun away and kept walking. If anybody heard the shots, they didn't care. Nobody even looked at the alley. I made a left as I exited the alley and headed for my favorite bar. I needed to celebrate. I thought once I did it I'd feel whole, but now I wanted more. Next time, I wanted my bitch to see it coming. I wanted it to beg.
Had I known then he was going to be a problem, I would have made that bum my second, and he certainly would have seen it coming.