The Kill

         As Charlie walked down the dirt road, he thought about how much his life had changed in the past few months. Just two months before he had been an average guy. Now he wasn't so average. At night he searched for anyone alone, hoping for a meal. He would even kill an animal if it came down to it. Now he was just waiting for someone to show. He didn't have to wait long before his neighbor left to walk his dog. Charlie would usually never kill someone so close to him home, but he was desperate. It had been several days since he had last eaten and was running low. He began to talk to this man, "old and weak," he thought to himself. As they walked, Charlie started to plan how he would do it. Suddenly, the man started to head home. Charlie had to move quickly before he missed his chance. He pounced on the man, trying to stop him from screaming. The old man begged for him to stop, saying he needed to get home. Charlie punctured his neck, engulfing the blood. After he had finished, Charlie drug his body to a ditch. Nobody would ever know. His wife would think he had, simply, fallen. Charlie took his time walking back home that night. He enjoyed these walks. The kill was always like a sport to him. A sport he would forever win at. Never letting anyone know what he had become.