---- Faini, Vincent D. Faini, Christianity, Conversations with Neo, Adventures in Marine Biology, Most People Talk Bullshit: One Primates Search For Intelligent Life, Phoenix Michaels, Touch of the Beast: Brent Fletcher, Requiem for a Midlife Crisis --- --

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Macau (Part 2)

PROLOGUE

      Haunting the darkness, behind the shrubs next to my intended victim’s garage, like a spider waiting for my meal. I was a cold wet predator, feverish and insane; yet, I felt a black pleasure coursing throughout every cell in my body as I anticipated what I was about to do, what I had been planning to do for the past three years. I was going to finally begin filling the dark aching abyss within my soul.

I was going to be reborn this very night.

      Since I had ghosted around his house for months, I knew that my intended victim was alone with his rented videos, and his liquor… as he was every Friday night. His wife had left hours ago on the pretense of going to her book club, but instead had gone to her usual motel rendezvous with the guy she had been fucking for months. Since he was a creature of habit, he would be finishing up his microwaveable Hungry Man dinner, let his cat out, while bringing out the kitchen trash to be dumped into the large trash receptacles.

      Oh yes! Tonight I was going to become a surgeon, a demolition man, and perhaps an angel of death… just like they trained me in the U.S. Marines!

      Tonight I was going to stab and cut, pound and hammer and outright disassemble with savage pleasure the first of many evil people that had in their own cowardly way dissembled my life. Yes! I shivered in feral ecstasy, Tonight, vengeance would be mine and I would be happy again!

      The blood was pounding in my temples and a terrible pain was splitting my skull. A chronic lung infection and fever raged within me, burning the neurons in my brain by the millions. Despite this, my nervous system was all jacked up as hate crackled within me. I yearned constantly for confrontation and dreamed of letting loose like a jungle predator.

      Lurking in the shadows, I felt the cold bite of the wind and the ribbons of rain cascading down on me. It was a good thing; the rain would muffle any sound that I could make and provide a sensory distraction to my prey.

      Suddenly, the object of my obsession came out to dump his trash. My heart was hammering in anticipation. I had rehearsed what I was about to do a thousand times. The trash-cans were right by the shrubs I was hiding behind, right to where he would come. The heft of the tools on my belt was comforting.

      I purposefully gathered myself into silent intention to bring myself nearer to my prey. The tension of all the years of pain, fear, and humiliation, had built up in me… driving me like a spring in an insane machine.

      As I regarded him from the shadows, I was again astounded by this overripe pear… this sorry excuse for a man. As he came closer, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I continued to carefully slink towards him, my muscles bunching up for a deadly rush of fury. Ready for what I knew was destined to happen.

 

 

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