I want to become a killer

The next day, I couldn't think of anything else. My mind was consumed with thoughts of the man from the park. He wasn't just a random target; he was a symbol, the first step in my evolution. Every detail of his appearance played over in my mind: the worn-out jacket, the sagging shoulders, the defeated posture. He was the embodiment of vulnerability.

I waited until nightfall, knowing he'd likely return to the same spot. People like him often followed routines. I arrived early, lurking in the shadows of the park, watching the empty bench. The minutes stretched into hours, but my patience was rewarded when I saw him appear, just as he had the night before. He moved slowly, his head down, oblivious to the world around him.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. This was the moment I'd been preparing for. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. I wasn't just going to watch this time. I was going to act.

I approached him carefully, making sure my footsteps were quiet. He didn't even look up as I got closer. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and he seemed lost in thought.

"Hey," I said, my voice calm, almost friendly.

He glanced up, startled. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol. "What do you want?" he muttered.

I forced a smile. "You okay? You look like you've had a rough day."

He blinked, his expression softening slightly. "Yeah... just a bad night. Needed some air."

I nodded, pretending to understand. "I get it. Life can be tough sometimes."

For a moment, he seemed to relax, his guard dropping. That's when I knew I had him. People were predictable when they were vulnerable. I just needed to guide him, make him trust me enough to follow.

"Listen," I continued, "there's a coffee shop down the street. I was heading there to grab something warm. Want to join me?"

He hesitated, eyeing me suspiciously. But then he sighed and shrugged. "Why not? Could use a coffee."

We walked in silence, my heart thudding with every step. The coffee shop was a lie, of course. My real destination was the warehouse. I led him through a shortcut that wound behind old factories, the perfect place where no one would see us.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

"Yeah," I said, keeping my tone light. "It's just around the corner."

When we reached the warehouse, he stopped. "This doesn't look like a coffee shop."

"It's not," I said, my voice calm. "But I promise you'll be warm soon."

His eyes widened in confusion, then fear, as he realized what was happening. He tried to back away, but I was faster. I grabbed him, pulling him inside with a strength I didn't know I had. He struggled, but the alcohol in his system made him weak.

I slammed the door shut behind us, the echo reverberating through the empty space. He was trapped.

"Please," he gasped, "I don't want any trouble."

"This isn't about trouble," I whispered. "It's about transformation."

His pleas turned into desperate cries, but no one could hear him out here. I felt a rush of power, a thrill unlike anything I'd ever experienced. This was my moment.

As I stood over him, his terrified eyes locked onto mine, I knew there was no turning back. This was the beginning of something greater than either of us could have imagined.