Note* work of fiction
From the diary of a murderer :
I was there killing people, seeking pleasure in their cries. I could see my reflection in the pool of blood. There was chaos everywhere. Nothing moved me because I already have died from within.
I was also hurt physically in this carnage, was wandering in streets with a bleeding hand and it was then that I met this old lady. She must be something over sixty years. She looked at my hand and asked what happened. I said had a small accident and couldn’t find a doctor at this hour. It’s not a small accident, you are hurt severely, come with me I will do some first aid. I said its fine, I will find something, I will take care of it. She still insisted, and she did it persistently. I had to give up as energy was draining out…
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