The Second Time

Yesterday I killed a man for the second time, just to see if I could. I mean, I'm not fucking sick or anything like that - I don't go round killing people just to see if I can, it was just this once. The first time, hell, I suppose it was in anger or something like that, and afterwards I found the nearest kiosk and bought a beer and a pack of Belomore - cos I needed to think a bit - and tried to figure out if I meant to kill Vova or not. And, of course, I couldn't work it out, so I had to kill someone else. Well, and I did it, you know? I mean, I'm not bragging or anything, I won't be going round telling people or writing 'can kill on request' on my CV or anything like that, but you learn a lot about yourself when you do this shit. 'I know what I intend to do, I know what I am doing, I know what I have done.'
So, I caved the poor fucker's head in. Hell, there was a handy slab of broken concrete nearby, and it was dark, and he was so drunk he would never've known a thing, poor sunovabitch. I wasn't sure he was dead at first - I mean, heads bleed a lot, you know? I whacked him a couple of times, and the next morning he was still there, and I felt good on the metro on the way to work. It feels good to learn things about yourself.