"i'm not afraid to die."

he looked me straight in the eye.
but, this was his mistake.
i knew he was a liar because in his eyes i saw fear.
if it wasn't for the fear then maybe the bastard would have gotten to live,
but as it was i slit his throat.
too many fucking times have i held peoples' lives in my hands
and too many times have i taken them.
but every time they are afraid.
it's not my fault that they are scared.
there is one more trembling wretch in the corner
he hopes that i don't see him
he prays to god that i leave him unnoticed.
as i walk over i hear him mutter,
frantically mutter an incantation to his lord.
i see the fear in his eyes,
just like all the rest,
and finish him off, too.
wondering if he realizes that his god doesn’t exist.