#lawkills

it was ritual.  the plastic covering every inch of the room, not allowing any room for error.  no mess left behind.  it was in these moments where he felt the most alive; right as another was about to become rather the opposite.  it was in these final moments of someone’s life where dexter thrived.  the thrill of taking a life.  not that it mattered much to him but he was doing the world a justice.  

ironically enough, that what the world thought this guy was doing for them.  at least part of the world.  it depended on what side of the courthouse you were on.  it didn’t surprise him, however, that a lawyer would be on his table.  he’s found many types of people wound up there.  people that most would never suspect.  a family man, a doctor, a ceo.  killers are everywhere.  he’s living proof.

scalpel in hand, eyes scan over the scene, making sure everything is perfect.  he circles his next kill, still unconscious on the table.        ❝  anthony whitten.  renown lawyer.  killer.  welcome to your end . . .  ❞        he speaks mostly to himself, but loud enough for the man to hear were he awake.    he stops, standing at his head, taking the scalpel to his cheek.  a trophy is saved  —  blood on a slide.  it’s placed aside before awakening his victim, cracking open smelling salts below his nose.  

@lawkills