My little mouse lays her head down on a feathery-filled pillow every Tuesday night at around nine at night. Given my nights stalking and waiting I know that my soft delicate prey sleeps soundly. So unaware of the kitty with fangs just waiting, and tonight was the night. Blood rushed in my veins the moment I felt her body panic underneath me as she woke to me straddled on top of her. A sharp butcher knife in my left hand held up high, gleefully laughing as the little mouse tries to squirm free. Hitting, scratching, anything she could think of. Until I came down hard with a swift slice across her artery. The crimson droplets rained forward splashing me with a pleasant continuous splash for a few moments. As the blood trickled less I continued to hack until I felt satisfied with my work taking a single picture of my masterpiece. Careful to leave no sign of myself as I left. Wondering if her mangled body will make its way to my morgue.
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