I have a sadistic nature. It’s a nature I’d rather those close to me remain oblivious to, but it exists nonetheless. It’s a trait I believe exists in most of us, although a majority refuses to acknowledge it. I remember suffering from episodes of blinding rage and having to use every fiber of my being to refrain from retaliating with acts of violence because of this sadism.

I’ve imagined what it must feel like to shove a razor-sharp knife through a victim’s body, the blade tearing through the victim’s flesh as I stand there staring coldly into their eyes, watching, with much pleasure, as the life literally leaves their body. I’d imagine an eerie grin on my face from watching them squirm before me I twist the knife even deeper into their heart. I could almost feel myself being engrossed with the adrenalin as their heartbeat becomes more and more faint, my hand drenched in their blood. And as they collapse on the floor, I remain standing over their body, as emotionless as the cold-blooded act I have committed at that very moment. Fortunately, these were just mere thoughts and my cowardice (and conscience) meant that nothing could come of it.

Unfortunately, not everyone is as timid. There are those among us, a very dark and ruthless few, who do more than embrace the homicidal thoughts that run through their minds. They act on them without flinching. They embrace this animalistic trait and go out of their way to satiate their thirst for human blood. For them, it’s a drug – an unremitting power trip. I think the scariest thing about these people, is that they have no distinguishing physical features. I can’t walk down the street and point at them while hysterically screaming, “There they are! Off with their heads!” A typical killer doesn’t have a scar on their forehead to make them easily identifiable, nor do they have fangs or surface only at night. They’re human beings who probably look, speak and even smell better than me.

And it’s that reality that has crippled me with fear – knowing that anyone is capable of committing murder. Even though for some people, the motives aren’t as sinister.

A mother would kill to protect her children from looming danger, just as a man would kill to protect his family. Some people will kill to defend themselves from the same fate, and in an unfortunate scenario, someone will find themselves being an accidental murderer. Maybe we’re all born killers. Some of us just happen to be more resistant to this urge; while others have this compulsion heighten during certain phases of their lives.


“Every instinct that is found in any man is in all men. The strength of the emotion may not be so overpowering, the barriers against possession not so insurmountable, the urge to accomplish the desire less keen. With some, inhibitions and urges may be neutralized by other tendencies. But with every being the primal emotions are there. All men have an emotion to kill; when they strongly dislike some one they involuntarily wish he was dead. I have never killed any one, but I have read some obituary notices with great satisfaction.” ― Clarence Darrow

We all have the potential to kill; it all just depends on our threshold.


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