Sins of a man, blood of an animal

I watched him from a distance. Followed him with my penetrating gaze, as he turned off the light in his shop. My hands were shaking. Not because of anxiety, but of rage. It was obscure outside. Not even a star could be seen through the shroud of darkness. Perfect. He walked into the back of the shop and started cutting the meat for tomorrow. He was a killer. A terrifying slaughterer, who killed animals for a living. A man with no heart, who cold-blooded executed my childhood.

The hands on my clock showed how time went, second by second. Minute by minute. Tick tock. It was time. I walked softly towards the animals hanging from the ceiling, so I could hide behind them, while planning my next move. I looked at the target as I removed the needed materials from my backpack. He was about to cut a pig in half. Inspirational. I sneaked up against him. I was close. So close that I could hear his heavy breathing and smell his sweat mixed with the stench of meat. I hated him for even inhaling air. He stopped cutting the pig, like he knew, I was there. My next move had to be done rapid and perfect. The next moment my arms were on his shoulders, forcing him to the floor. While he was still staggered, I took the knife from his hand and used the handle to knock him unconscious. It was my turn to have control over the situation. Control over my life. Not being a helpless child in a cruel world. This was my revenge. I stripped him naked. Now he had no dignity left. No pride. I tied his legs together with a thin rope and dragged him over to the animals hanging from the ceiling. I found an empty hook, fastened the rope around it and dragged him up using a device made for that purpose. He was now hanging from the ceiling like the cows and pigs, which weren’t stripped for clothes, but skin. I waited for him to wake up.

He started to mumble. Opened his eyes. He started shaking, as I confronted him with his actions and told him what I was going to do with him. He groaned, while I giggled. He cried and begged, as I took the knife and started cutting off his skin. Piece by piece. There was blood everywhere and he would suffer. Die in pain.  I sliced all of his skin off, until he looked like the naked animals next to him. He screamed loud and painfully, and as I stood there, I saw him breath for the last time and drip his last drop of blood. Now I was the slaughterer.

I ran out in the cold streets of London as if fire was in my heels and hair.