Looking back to the first time I killed someone, it did not go as well as I had hoped. Obviously I learned a lot from this experience since I continued to kill and kill at a very efficient rate. I was about 19 years old and after years of hiding my true self and my true desires from family, classmates and even my closest friends, the cold entity who controlled me and forced me to have these sick twisted, some would even say sinister motivatations, it finally boiled over. HIs name was Devin Anderson.

 Mr. Anderson wasn’t a large man. He wasn’t a strong man. I wouldn’t even say he was a particularly smart or handsome man. The one thing he did have however; Power. Something he couldn’t get enough of. Devin Anderson, A.K.A Debo was the leader of a large drug related gang who ran their operations out of his chains of car washes called Sparkly Clean. A little ironic, since all his money was dirty. Buyers would come through and the employees would exchange drugs for cash in a blind spot in the cameras during a wash. Pretty genius if you ask me. So I wasn’t shocked when I found out the closet friend I had found his way into that carwash and two hours later he was found on his couch at home unresponsive and has been in a coma for three weeks. 

Obviously I wanted him to be okay but this didn’t affect me personally, I just liked my friend more then Debo, so I thought if my friend dies because of Debo then they both should be dead. When I thought about this I could feel the cold start to slosh around deep in my subconscious. A little reminder who was really in control here. I could hear faint whispering. Breathing on my neck, and light scratches on my face. I figured I couldn’t argue. I took a short visit to the wash and once they asked if I wanted the “Special Deal”. I felt hurt. Funny. I can't really feel hurt, but I felt strange. They just continued business as usual. They don’t know. They have no Idea I am the only one who can connect my friend and this dirty Sparkly Clean. After this point things are a little hazy and when I try to remember what exactly happened, I get a cold, threatening, deep, powerful entity tightening its grip on reality itself. It’s like it would drive someone crazy or something. Weird. If I think really hard and carefully about it, I can remember little details. 

I remember it being late at night, when there is a little light showing from the next morning. I also remember the silence. Deafening silence. I sat in my car for four hours, just waiting. Analyzing everything, even things that didn’t even matter. I was stuck. Fixated on seeing Debo. Just to see the look of this monster’s face. I stayed until the very last car. Right as I was about to fall asleep from pure exhaustion, I see the lights on the car turn on, the door on the side pof the building open up, and our good friend Debo walks slowly to his car, without a care in the world. The cold started to rumble. I could feel it spread to all my limbs. Toes, Fingers, I could feel it in my ears. Once the cold filled my entire body, I felt it start to heat up. I could feel the molecules start to bounce around, it was just a constant temperature increase. I put the car in drive. I pull up to the side of his car. My windows are tinted. After I get out the details are fuzzy. I remember a knife, Gloves, and blood. Lots of blood. It didn’t bother me, the blood just surprised me, it was a lot darker than it looked in the movies. I remember seeing Debo screaming, but I can’t remember the actual sound of it. His screams weren’t important to me though. Neither was letting his family have an open casket. Let’s just say I gave him a proper send off, with thirty gallons of the best petrol in the state and a really big explosion. It was exhilarating. I haven’t felt alive since, but neither did Debo I guess.