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His skin is coated in it. The sick, dark gore others know as blood, but I, the life force. I exhale a guttural sound, almost as if in pain. But I am not, no.. I never am. It drives me, this smell, that which disgusts most, the sickening, rotting smell of death. I feel the quaking throughout my bones, gnawing deep at my very core.

I am nothing supernatural, I am not even a killer.
Oh, but how I would like to be.
The way I watch them, everywhere around me, like flies they drop.
Only if I could be the one to annihilate them.
Annihilate.. Such a... robotic, mechanical word, don't you think? Not very good..
Devour them. That suits me more.
Yes...
And I wouldn't be caught.
I know ways... Many have asked me before, while I interrogate them.
Why, how did they get caught?
Why do they think I became a cop?

Yes.. I am drawn closer to it now. The thrill of a kill engulfs me. But... In the mirroring pool of blood, I am not me. I am my father. Again. Then it changes. I stand there, blood dripping from my chin. I torch the body, I clean the scene thoroughly. And then, I dump everything directly into a landfill.

See? Simple.
I would never be caught.
In fact.. They would probably ask me to work that case.
Hah.
Cops truly are the worst of criminals.