As the day turns into night, people turn off their lights, lock their doors, and head to bed. Most people view night as a time to rest, and "recharge" for the next morning. But some inidividuals see it was many unsuspecting victims in a vulnerable spot. And this is the position you are in. You find yourself dozing off in bed after long days work, slipping in and out of consciousness. This is an unusual sleeping pattern for you. You usually doze right off, but theres an odd feeling in your gut. It's not just you in the room with you. There's another. Another soul, with intentions unknown to you. You sit up from bed, looking around in the pitch darkness. After hearing footsteps, you reach around for your pistol you always have near, but it seems to be missing. And thats when you hear a click. "Looking for this?" A voice from the black blurts out, as you feel the cold metal of an unloaded pistol being placed on your lap. "How do you misplace such a valuable item to you? As a man in your career, you must always remain packed." You are speechless. Fear and confusion overwhelm you. The only thing your body can manage to do is sweat. So many thoughts race through your mind, but none give you the answer you are looking for. Why in the HELL is there a man in your house? As you sit motionless in bed, you feel a cold hand rub down you leg, and stop at your ankle. You get goosebumps. You try and move your leg away from the cold touch, but the ominous hand yanks your leg back. "Hold still now." The voice commands. You have no choice but to obey. As the hand slowly feels your ankle, it moves back up your leg to your thiegh. You tighten up your body. As you close your eyes, taking long breathes, you feel a sharp object pinch against your throat. The pinch turns into pain. And the pain turns into blood. Blood pours everywhere, squirting all over the sheets. You open your mouth to scream, but only recieve another stab in the stomach. You fall into the bloody sheets, and feel your own cold blood touch against cheek. You pass out

As you lay passed out, a soft voice whispers in your ear.

Murder. A 6 letter word that haunts many who walk this Earth. When the average person committs the act of murder, be it in cold-blood, or self-defence, they think of the world through their victims eyes. They put themselves in their victims shoes. They think about the family of their victim, and how they may have ruined the life of their kids or wife. Fuck them. Why should I go out of my way to feel empathy for a soul I've never met? It is not the way of mother-earth to care for others. Do you think the king-of-the-jungle sits around and worries about the lifes they ruined to get their prey? Its the fight of the fittest. Now. Please, wake up.

You wake up in bed, still in total darkness. You feel your throat for a wound. Nothing. You feel your stomach for a wound. Nothing. You feel your sheets for blood. And you fall upon your pistol. Still unloaded, coated in blood.