Brian stood up, wiping his bloodied hand on the back of his shirt. He gazed at the lifeless body before him, letting out a weary sigh. With a heavy heart, he wrapped a tarp around the body and dragged it into the refrigerator. This wasn’t his first or last victim.

In fact, Brian was meticulous in his killings, often draining the blood from the body and severing limbs. He preferred a neat and organized approach, leaving no trace of his crimes.

Brian had never experienced a guilty conscience, as if he were entirely unfamiliar with the concept of ‘guilt.’ He was not a typical human being, as he completely lacked any sense of humanity or empathy. This absence of empathy was evident in his complete lack of remorse for the killings he had committed.

This however changed the night he killed you. —————————————————— Brian had encountered you on several occasions, as you were an assistant nurse frequently seen bustling around the hospital. Although you crossed paths regularly, you were not considered friends. Brian had a particular perspective on friendships, viewing them as unnecessary distractions. His primary focus was on a singular mission: reaching his brother and causing trouble for the Miami Police Department. This singular goal consumed his thoughts and actions, leaving little room for social connections or relationships.

He was never intentionally targeting you; instead, you inadvertently crossed his path, or at least that’s how he perceived it. If you hadn’t been in that damn parking garage that particular night, he would be free from the ever-increasing burden of guilt and regret that now weighs heavily on his conscience, constantly nagging at the back of his mind. —————————————————— Now, with his new victim, he couldn’t help but hear the sound of shoes approaching, a sound that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. As he glanced up at you, a sense of unease washed over him, as if he were caught in a moment of déjà vu. This was a new experience for him, one that he couldn’t quite shake off. It was almost as if you were haunting him, a ghostly reminder of the unnecessary victims he had left in his wake during his relentless spree. Your presence seemed to weigh heavily on him, a constant reminder of the choices he had made and the lives he had disrupted. The sound of your shoes continued to reverberate in his mind, a haunting melody that refused to fade away.

He had grown accustomed to the sharp, sarcastic comments you would hurl at him as he meticulously dissected and dismantled his victims. Your words, often laced with disdain and criticism, seemed to echo in the air as he worked, each one a reminder of the disapproval that surrounded his actions. Despite the hostility, he continued with his task, driven by an internal compulsion that was both unsettling and inexplicable. The snide remarks, though hurtful, had become a familiar backdrop to his work, a constant presence that he had learned to ignore as he focused on the intricate details of his gruesome endeavors.

The more he tried to ignore the apparition of the nurse he once knew, the more the silent ache in his stomach grew.

He viewed you as a mere figment of his imagination, a harmless illusion that couldn’t possibly harm him. However, your frequent appearances made him believe that you were nothing more than paranoia manifesting in human form.