Personal Narrative: My Life As A Serial Killer

I've never enjoyed the taste of blood. It always tasted quite disgusting to me, like sucking on a penny. I guess I’m one of the few serial killers out there who feels this way. I meet an enormous amount of serial killers who regularly indulge in their victim’s blood. It has never appealed to me. Maybe it’s because I felt a secret shame of killing innocent people. It is buried deeply inside of me, so the likelihood of it popping up is very slim.

The only thing I like about my lifestyle is, well, the killing. I enjoy it. The exhilaration, the calm feeling after the kill. I can clean up the blood and sleep in their bed. Usually I only hunt in the rich neighborhoods, so the beds are usually extremely soft. I can eat whatever’s in their fridge, watch what they pay to have on TV, and leave by morning. I usually call the police from the victim’s …show more content…
Things like the touch of another human, a relationship, being able to fall asleep with the love of my life at night. I understand it’s silly to consider such things, but I can’t help it. I’m a human being, this is normal, I know that much. Still, it didn’t prevent me from hating it.

At times, I enjoy being alone. Mostly because I like being able to make decisions without having to compromise with my boyfriend or husband. I can just be, without being compelled to make sure I’m not hurting the feelings of my significant other.

Today is the day I’m supposed to meet with a few people at an underground club. This club is specifically for serial killers, and boy is it stunning. I learn much more from returning to this place than I ever could from real-life experience. It’s amazing, and I will never try to find another place to frequent.

I walked into the club after giving the guard the password. The club always required a password, mostly for its patrons’ protection. As soon as I see my friends, I see a man I didn’t recognize. I don’t realize how valuable he will be to me until I came up to the