When I kill one person, I kill every person.

If I killed, say rheotorically, Jacob Verstan, I would make sure to cut all ties with the living.

I don't like making people suffer. I wouldn't want anyone to miss him or be sad.

I don't like making people sad.

So I would kill everyone who knew him, who would miss him, who would mourn his passing, who'd even seen him passing on the street.

I don't like making an empty, hollow feeling in people's guts.

It's very mean, wouldn't you say, to kill one person and cause the suffering of so many others?

Jacob's kids won't have to go on without him.

His wife won't have to cry at his funeral.

His boss won't have to regret being an asshole to him in life.

His fellow employees won't have to work without him.

His employers won't have to regret looking down on him.

When you're dead, everything's so painless. When everyone who knew him is dead, no one hurts inside.

If everyone who would feel his passing passed away themselves, then there was no pain.

And as twisted as you believe me to be, you know it's true.

If no one is alive to remember someone, then no one will feel the pain.

But... oh wait. If I kill everyone that knew him, then the people they knew would miss them.

Well I have a lot of work to do.


No, I'm not insane. At least, not criminally insane like most of my stories, especially this one, are.