Murder is an art, perhaps not modern, but still an art, no matter how someone defends against it. After all, not every idiot can cut veins well enough for the victim not to bleed out; you need talent for that.

"Stop moving," I ordered, pausing the shaving machine as well as my thoughts for a moment.

There was still half left to achieve a perfectly smooth skin, only half or until half. And this is just the beginning; my patient today is quite restless. He needed more morphine.

"Yyyyyyy..." the man replied, but his voice was terribly muffled and unclear. His throat was starting to get hoarse from constantly repeating the same thing, despite his mouth being constantly blocked.

Dear God I just want to kill you, why the nerves. For the first time in your whole life you will finally be useful for something and because of that someone besides your family will remember you. Another unenlightened idiot who can't appreciate a great work even when he has to take part in it.

"Now, now." I said rolling my eyes at the insanity of my interlocutor.

And then I pulled off the blindfold blocking his mouth. "You can speak now."

"Help...help..."

"Yyyyyy..."

Another one, will they never learn that there is no hope of help or escape. I've done it enough times not to make such basic mistakes. One time I had enough of a desperate pursuit, until this day I am ashamed of it, good enough that no one saw it. Besides, what is one death for the progress of all mankind. I still don't understand why we don't experiment on people in the hospital, it would be much more optimal. But when in Rome...do as the Romans do, why should I stand out unnecessarily.

"Yyyyyyy..."

"Enough of this." I said, already slightly annoyed. I took another blindfold lying on the table and put it around his neck, tethering him with slings to the chair, Whom he already seemed to be glued to. A tether strong enough that he couldn't move his head, but still with a little slack because he had to breathe somehow. Barely but still he could, perfectly as I like.

"You know Mr. Henry Smith, I expected more from you. You have already lost your wife and had no children. You stay away from the rest of your family or neighbors so what makes you continue to fight. What makes you think that someone will realize your absence and call for help ideally in this place. Please relax and pass yourself into my hands, you are not losing anything. I promise to be gentle."

"......"

No rebellion, all right. I wasn't lying, although I didn't mention anything about the lack of pain. Hope continues to be the mother of fools and I have a brief moment of silence.

When my minor crisis was quickly resolved I returned to the haircutting. One by one, the man's hair began to fall until a beautiful bald spot reflecting the artificial light remained. For a fifty-year-old, he had a surprising amount of hair. I wonder what shampoo he used, although probably if I ask he won't say, what a shame.

Regardless, I took the nearest towel and began to decently fluff his head to make it as smooth as a baby's bottom.

Well done, it was time to move on to stage two.

Gently with my left hand I picked up the sterilized scalpel while with the other I began to hold the man's forehead so that this time he would not move . I wonder how long he can hold on.

Hopefully not soon, because now even the slightest movement will make the work no longer perfect, and a true genius strives only for perfection.

Quickly like a nurse sticking a syringe into a child, I inserted the sharp tool into the skin of his head but no further. Just the skin for now.

And then, clockwise, I tried to create a perfect circle on his head to expose the sensitive contents underneath.

However, before I could form a half-circular line two centimeters to the side , I heard a quiet sound coming from above.

Knock, knock

Knock, knock

"Pleasant for later," I sighed under my breath slightly losing my creative verve, hurriedly wiped the bleeding spot and put away the unneeded tools in their place. There would still come a time for them.

I took step after step up my favorite creaking staircase and then locked the basement door. After all, I don't want uninvited guests to find out something they shouldn't. If there was only one then ok but more, where would I fit them all.

Knock, knock

Someone knocks gently but firmly, as if in a hurry. A package, the letter carrier or something more serious?

Therefore, having his suspicions, I unhurriedly unlock the security of the front door, all the while holding a kitchen knife behind my back. Just in case.

Then I slightly swing the door open and dress up the most genuine smile I can.

"Excuse me, what's the matter?" I ask maliciously dragging out the sentence just to gain a few precious seconds to get my bearings.

"Mr. Samuel Malak?" The man asks, shifting his feet and every now and then looking at the watch on his hand. His eyes were glassy but not from sadness rather...weariness.

"Yes indeed," I reply, adding in my mind. A courier, false alarm.

"I have a package for you." He says pulling out a tablet from his backpack. "Please sign here."

Lazily as if to spite the man, I read the entire document aloud, from top to bottom politely smiling. After all, I wouldn't want to leave out anything important. But in reality I keep a close eye on my surroundings all the time, a little paranoia has never hurt anyone yet.

Then, after reading the whole thing and taking a long moment to think about it, I put my signature and returned the electronic property.

"Thank you and have a nice day," Quick stated the man as he retrieved the tablet. He put the package on the ground and then even ran out of the yard, got into his car and simply drove away. Only dust was left behind.

"Have a nice..." I replied with a smile, but the man didn't hear it, because he was long gone.

"Ehh, youth," I said falsely under my breath and then remembered the miserable package.

It was small, very small, just there's a problem since I didn't order anything. Mistake, naw, there was my name so it was definitely to me. What could it be?

I picked up the package from the ground and gently shook it, fearing to damage the contents.

"Not only is it light, but it also seems empty" I stated, putting my ear to the wall of the package.

Never mind, I'll find out soon anyway. I lightly started to close the door but before I could do so, I remembered something.

I turned my gaze to the farthest part of my property until my eyes stopped on one particular object.

While I'm here, I can check the mailbox, whatever.

~~~

Advertising, commercial and publicity. A flyer and a bill, nothing out of the ordinary.

So the package itself is now only left. I lightly open it with a knife and there is nothing, no there is something on the bottom, some kind of letter.

Someone is making fun of me for sending a letter by package?

Some seal on the front and no address on the back, it getting more and more suspicious.

Let's see.

Dear Mr. Samuel Malak
As a result of your good and unusual actions, you have been recognized and appreciated by our corporation.
Therefore, we offer you a job as one of our junior employees. Of course, if you prove yourself and act with such great work ethic as you have done so far I believe that you will quickly climb the ranks of our organization.
Please give your verbal consent as soon as possible to our authorized representative who will visit you in the near future.
A refusal to do so will not be accepted, so I kindly ask you to end this amicably and as soon as possible.

With best regards Azazel Fallin
Head of Human Resources Department PD inc.

It's odd, I haven't made a job offer anywhere, why would anyone send me this. I have no intention of giving up my current warm position at the hospital as head of one of the departments, and I certainly don't intend to work for a corporation. Not once again. I don't want to agonize in this bureaucratic hell anymore.

Another stupid joke I guess.

Enough of this, I've been dragging it out too long anyway, time to get back to work

...

Once again, the creaky floor gives me a hard time, what came to my mind to not renovate them and leave them like in some cheap horror movie.

Well, I know, those beautiful weeping eyes of my new victim which I can now easily see. That glimmer of life in them, that animalistic desire to survive which only grows stronger with each waning moment of the new dose of drugs. Delicious.

However, I still most prefer the moment when the last breath of life escapes from a person. An unforgettable moment and how addictive.

Have I already reached the days of humanity or not yet because I still crave some artistry or higher value in this act. A question for the next day and the next man.

"Would you like another dose of anesthesia Henry?" I ask gently and graciously because previous events have made me averse to the feast of pain.

Panic and tears and trying to move despite having every limb tied up is the only answer he needs. Apparently the beginning of the operation brought him to his senses more than expected.

One injection in the neck and peace again. Back to the art.

Scalpel in hand and back to creating a circle. As usual, one simple pull and it's done. Now all you have to do is lightly lever it and the skull is exposed.

Well now it's a choice of bone saw or facial skin removal or maybe something elaborate like removing the eyeballs.

Before that, it would be worth asking about mood, though. "Henry how are you holding up?" I asked with a slight wince.

"......"

Unfocused vision, sweating skin and slight twitching. Now I think I went over the dose in the other direction. Too bad, but I'll remember for the future. Failure is the mother of progress.

So bone saw.

I don't like that moment when I have to work so hard. Usually at least they shout to pass the time, ehhh.... once again a pity. Damn courier, everything is your fault.

Up and down, right and left. Stronger and weaker. How much more will I have to cut it, you should have stolen the damn laser when I had the chance.

Knock

I think I'm starting to slowly come to the end, just a few more.... a couple of strong.... slashes.

Wait did I hear something?

Knock, knock

And who is knocking this time now, I won't believe how it will be another courier.

"Henry forgive me but again you have to wait."

I didn't puncture any vein or anything important, nope. He'll be fine for a few minutes.

After a while I close the door again then head for the kitchen for something sharp but as I reach the living room out of the corner of my eye I notice something that makes me freeze in place.

A man, uninvited sits in my house and looks through my discarded letters. How dare he, and he didn't even take off his hat, what should be his attire as if he just stepped out of an 18th century gentlemen's club.

Inferring from the lack of knocking outside, I have an unmoved burglar in front of me. But how did he get in if I didn't lock the door, impossible.

So not only a thief, but also a burglar and on top of that he has the gall to show himself directly in front of the building owner. Now let's see who has bigger balls.

I sit down directly in front of him and with confidence in my voice I ask. "Hello, what are you here for?"

The man did not respond at first, he was looking through all the documents lying on the table and as I was about to ask again, he finally managed to get something out of his mustachioed mouth "You took your time, but I admire your meticulousness and passion."

What, where, how?

"Thank you , I guess , but can you tell me what you are doing here?" I pressed further completely lost by the earlier question.

"Nothing important, lets get to the point. Do you agree to join our corporation?"

"What corporation , could you be confusing me with someone, because I didn't apply for any position. More important is what you are doing in my house."

'"Ehh... "sighed the man. ''Fucking marketers and their stupid ideas.''

''Here, read it as many times as you want with me, and then go for it. Just so we get it over with, okay?" Asked the Man handing Samuel an beautiful ornate letter, the same as the one he had read earlier.

"No thanks, I'll pass," I said holding my hands out to him.

It's never a good idea to take something from strangers especially one so recalcitrant.

Then I added to calm him down and give him a false sense of security. ''I read this earlier and with all respect, I don't want to belong anywhere."

" How about you be so kind and leave my house. Otherwise I will be forced to call the police, I don't recall inviting you."

"You read it right...you said it yourself, one problem solved" Whispered the man completely ignoring the further part of my earlier statement.

"So I renew the question if you agree to join our corporation. Pretty please."

"Do you hear what is being said to you, please get out of my house, I will not belong anywhere" I raised my voice slightly this time recognizing my mysterious interlocutor as slightly stupid or deaf.

''Ehh.... another fool , so we do it as usual'' The stranger stated mysteriously but his facial expression contradicted his words. Under his sizable brown mustache he had a banana smile that in any normal person would give shivers down the spine.

Fortunately, I never claimed to be one of the normal people, and I know his maddening smile all too well. It's hard to forget him when you look at it every now and then in the mirror. Especially when you're covered entirely in not-your-own-blood.

Takes one to know one, he probably escaped from the psychiatrist.

The man put the letter in his pocket, got up from his chair with surprising grace and headed toward the front door. Once there, he left behind only the odd last words.

''See you soon Samuel, we will meet later. And I think it will be earlier than you might think.''

I'm scared, try... me... bitch.