Nothing Wrong

Sitting in the canteen at work is a hobby of mine, I suppose. People come and go; some see me and want a chat; some don't. It makes no difference to me so long as I don't make anyone uncomfortable. Watching a person is great exercise. It's even better when they don't know that they are the prey.Jeff stands at the vending machine with his back to me. I have always been curious as to what it would be like to smash the glass with someone's face. I might push the head down, using the glass to slice the neck. How would the blood go? Would it be a gushing mess or a rapid dribble? Maybe it would be disappointing, like when you cut your arm badly but very little blood comes at first, but then the wound fills with blood and just runs warm and free."Harry, are you ok, Buddy?"I snapped out of my fantasy because of this person who thinks he is safe around me. It takes me a second to think of his name, as he isn't any more important to me than the fly stuck to the flypaper in the corner of the r

I went to the bank to withdraw some cash then went to a sandwich shop I like that sells subs. I like them but never found out why they were called subs maybe I will look into it one day. One of the best things about this sandwich shop was the view out of the huge clear glass window. I watch people and make up little stories in my head about each person. I don't think about killing them here there are just too many witnesses. It pleases me that not everyone is an arse hole. Some might like me for just being me not to just make themselves feel good. Today seems like a slow day for the shoppers in town it must be the rain keeping them home. As I scan the street a man catches my eye. He is slim about five feet ten tall his head is shaved and he has some tattoos on his face. It isn't his appearance that has caught my attention but his demeanour. The tracksuit wearing man is acting strange. He is pacing up and down in front of a bench that has a rucksack on it. I watch as he unzips the ba

Five thirty AM and I'm on my way to work. The traffic is amazing at this time of day. I glance in the rearview mirror and glimpse my reflection in the dull morning light. My face is swollen and one eye is partly closed on top of that I have scratches down my cheek from the shuffle with that scum bag mugger. There is no doubt in my mind that there will be questions about it all. I figured that it would be plausible that I had a few drinks on the weekend and upset my neighbour and this happened. I think the best lies have a little bit of truth that way it's harder to trip yourself up.The reason for setting off for work early this morning was to go and get the number plates off the car I saw the other day that was identical to mine. Going on my way to work gave me a reason for being out at this time of day if the police pulled me over. The other reason was there was a good chance the car would still be here and not many people around. To keep my face hidden I wore a cap with a p

"Good morning my horrible little friend. How are you today?"I would have probably shit myself if something other than woof had come out of Oliver's mouth and luckily for me that was all he had to say. He was growing on me like mould slowly and persistently. That was why last night I decided to end him today. First, though I had work to go to. Once he was fed and had his morning walk I went to work.Just before my lunch break, the manager came down from his office. His face was set to smile and he was making a beeline straight for me. It would be fucking hilarious if he fell into one of the looms now while they were running at full tilt. It wouldn't kill him but he would probably lose a finger or two. He doesn't deserve to die for being a cock but a nasty injury would be nice for all of us on the shop floor."Harry the boss wants you up in his office now."" Ok, I will be up in a minute let me just finish this.""He said now."I slammed my scissor

Oliver was buried in the back garden and had I planted a rose bush on top of him. He was a good boy and it nagged at my mind. He trusted me he believed he had a good place to be. I messed up. What I had done had taken the edge off how people looked for now. I don't know how long it will last but it has been three days since I took his life and inflicting pain on people was creeping back up on me. After getting a warning from my boss my mind was made up to be in charge. Work was going to see a man work his way from the bottom of the food chain to the top. No one is going to get in my way and so help them if they do. It has been three days of hard graft and long hours but already it is being noticed. I have put in forty-eight hours of work in three hours and my area has had a makeover. It has been streamlined to perfection. It used to take eight minutes to inspect one price of cloth from picking it up from the loom to checking it tagging and putting it away. Through moving