Murder is a strange thing. The very notion of committing homicide, manslaughter â€" whatever you like to call it â€" is both exciting and terrifying. What if you're caught, then sentenced to a life behind bars; locked in an institutionalized cage? That is the terrifying bit of the ordeal, but let me tell you, the excitement? It's immeasurable. The very idea of putting a small, deadly piece of metal into another's body at a precise and carefully mapped place created a sense of divinity. God create, and God taketh away, right? Adrenaline has always been a close friend of mine, surfacing in the moments when thoughts of taking another's life arise like bubbles in the deep ocean. You can tell something is there, but you can't tell what exactly. And that fact alone is enough to send shivers down your spine.

I wonder if all serial killers have a preference in their weapon of choice. Their method of choice. Were all homicidal maniacs creatures of habit? Me, I'm not that predictable. Victim to whims I don't like to control, I often fall prey to circumstance and allow the environment to dictate what kind of fate I choose to inflict upon the poor soul who stood in my path. One way or another, I choose their demise and let me tell you: every single time, I enjoyed it. There must be something seriously wrong with me (obviously) but the urge to take someone's life has been a disastrous vice of mine for as long as I can remember. Maybe even before I can remember, because squeezing the trigger of the first gun I held is hazy at best, now. I wonder if killing someone is as sensual and fantastical for others as I imagine it is. I wonder if, when Azrael takes the life of another supernatural being, does he feel some kind of satisfaction and pleasure?

I sure as hell do.

And then there is my partner. Damon had grown from a contractor, to an acquaintance, to a drinking buddy, and into a business partner that I valued more than I like to admit. His blunt and dark humor tickled my fancy in a way that my brother's humor used to and it's familiarity was a breath of fresh air in city smog. When my phone rang and it was Damon himself brandishing the offer of torture, who was I to resist? Merrily heading his way, I armed myself with no weaponry. I felt innovative and creative â€" two potentially dangerous feelings â€" they would both allow me to erupt with plenty of torturous ideas. Besides, Damon hadn't been privy to my newest magical affliction: sin and emotional manipulation. The Shadow, he was used to, by my nearest and dearest display of power gently stroked my ego, a positive force that ensured whatever Damon had in mind would step to the next level.

Humming something reminiscent of a eulogy instrumental, I entered the room Damon had instructed me to find, ready to step into the game with him.

"Where's the fun in that?"

My words were directed at the being sentenced to the chair in the far end of the room, some minor approval surfacing in my tone. Damon looked at ease which was unsurprisingly, and I casually slipped my jacket off to drop it on the table that was nearest to me before lighting a cigarette and closing the distance between the duo and myself.

"You waited for me â€" aw, you shouldn't have. Now I feel all warm and fuzzy."

With a hint of good humor befalling my words, my lips turned upwards into a characteristic smirk. I blew the smoke towards the man, watching contentedly as the smoke morphed into a demonic shape, flying towards the captive vampire. Oh, how sweet. He remembered! I felt the magic begin to pulse at my fingertips, reminding me that I was more than prepared to begin our little venture. Surveying the room, my eyes roamed the walls until they faded away, leaving a horrorscape in their wake. The room darkened with fires erupting in the distance of what could only be a depiction of purgatory; the holes represented the rabbit holes towards the belly of hell. The illusion was one of my better creations if you ask me, filled with crawling figures and beings with peeling, bleeding skin.

"I think this is far more fitting. And rather homey, don't you think?"