End of the beginning

The beginning or the end? Let's start from the end, that's more interesting, I like the end of a cycle, it's always the same, but still vague. Sweet and sour. Pure though tainted. Oh how it excites me.

My end came because of her, or maybe I become her end, it was nice, she was nice, I coveted, I couldn't hide my desire. She loved me, I know she did, though she never said it, I could feel the passion burning. I craved her, tried to love her, to let her in, I really did, but I couldn't.

I like women, they're such complicated creatures, an enigma I feel obliged to solve, that's the problem. My curiosity, it destroys me, changes to obsession and that becomes my destruction. Don't blame me. Its uncontrollable, it's impossible. A little hint, and I'm out sniffing for more clues like a hungry wolf. Ya, I'm a wolf, a predator that preys on innocent woman.

You're probably looking at me in disgust, like I'm a sick monster. Yes, I chase after attention, yes, I dear women, yes, I love seeing them in pain and agony. Do I feel remorse? No. Do I wish I have never done it? Of course not. What other form of entertainment do I have? None. Men my age like golf, oh how it antipathies me seeing my colleagues chase after balls for hours talking about their profit, or the girl they fucked yesterday, and how loud she screamed. It's pathetic. Danny, poor Daniel, that useless bastard, it amazes me how he used to talk about his sexual activities, like he had any.

Daniel Anderson, my dearest friend, how I miss him. He was a nice guy, arrogant, self-centered, power thirsty, and of course good looking. And I loathed him for that. He was a competition, a big rival, so I had to take him some where far away from me. It was a simple plan, I'll tell you about it later on.

He likes it there, he expresses his gratitude to me for moving him there. "Isn't that right Danny?" I said looking at the lifeless skull that was kept in my basement cupboard.