MS was not a psychopath. She'd read books about psychopathy, many, many books. Not all killers were psychopaths, an in fact a lot of psychopaths out there were not killers. MS was not, in any way, a psychopath. She wouldn't deny that he was in fact a killer however.

There was just something about some people, that when MS looked at them something clicked inside her mind. Something, not a voice, but a deep rooted instinct, screamed at her to remove them from the world. "Pain is just the weakness leaving your body." She'd tell them sometimes. Because pain had taken its sweet time with ridding MS of her weakness. And now she was simply unable to hurt anymore; or so she believed.
 

The night had started out like any other; walk around, find the prey, wait for an opportunity, take them away to never be seen again. It was a process she was so used to by now that it just came very naturally. Maybe a little too naturally for MS's own sake. The prey this time was a man in his mid thirties, a man considerably stronger and taller than MS was, which shouldn't be a problem if she was quick and careful enough to jab her trusty sedative needle to the man's neck as usual; something she ultimately failed to do. It was a stupid, stupid, rookie mistake that led to something that actually made MS nervous; a change of plans.

It seemed like something out of a cheap horror film; a storm was starting to form itself, and right as MS was following the man into an empty street lightning lit up the sky, his form casting a clear shadow on the floor within the man's line of sight. What was supposed to be as simple as pretending to help a seemingly drunken man to his car had now turned into a struggle as the man turned and slammed his fist into the killer's face, causing her to drop her syringe in the dark pavement. The man had had more than his share of alcohol at this point, as he did almost every night in fact, so it wasn't more than MS could handle, the problem was more that now she'd have to end the bastard right there and she'd have to do it quickly.

In the moment his victim/attacker tried to punch again MS ducked under his swinging fist and pulled her knife, immediately stabbing it through the man's chest. Failing to even notice if the man had screamed at the pain or not she continued to stab him repeatedly until finally the guy stopped moving, sliding down limp against the brick wall of an abandoned building. MS cleaned the blade on the leg of the man's pants, snatched the car keys from the dead man's pocket and found her lost syringe.

The rain had finally started pouring, it would gladly wash the blood from her hands and face... At least something would finally go right with his night.