The perfect murder, the perfect psycho

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A/N

okay so this is my first time writing this kind of story, but i thought what the heck lets give it a go! Gonna try update every week, all comments and criticisms are welcome!!!!!!!!!

Hope you enjoy it! All copy rights reserved :)

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The man walked over to the crossing and looked both ways before turning to the blind man next to him, 'it's safe to cross'. His charming smile fell on blind eyes as his cheerful and trusting voice travelled over to the man who looked right at him. With his black shades on he seemed to be staring right through the man's soul, but his charming smile never faltered. To anyone else he would seem like a kind citizen going about his day trying to do a good deed, but to his victims he was a psycho, he had no kindness, he had no morals. Just the burning desire to kill, the longing to test the limits and break the rules.

'Thanks' the blind man said with a nod of his head before turning back to the road. His foot had only just left the curb when he heard the sound of the trucks horn telling him to move out of the way. But it was too late. The man walked away with a genuine smile, the rush of adrenaline still in his veins from killing the man who knocked him at the train station. 'Good' he thought 'it was messy. I always hated the clean careful deaths'.

The sound of screams pierced the air as commuters where covered in the blind man, the satisfactory smell of copper filled the air, and to the man's distaste there was a slight smudge of blood on his white collar. Walking into the nearest suit shop he could find he discarded his shirt for a new one, never once stopping to make sure the sales assistant wasn't watching. 'God the people in London can be so oblivious' the voice in the back of his head was beginning to get annoyed that yet again no one was noticing the rules he was breaking, and to be perfectly honest he didn't think they would care.

He wandered around the shop for a little longer, relishing in the memories of just moments ago. The noise the man made upon impact was something he especially enjoyed, it was sickening and broke through the sounds of the busy streets of London as if the place had been quiet.

'Excuse me, miss. There's blood on this collar' a man of no great importance held up the shirt for the sales assistant to examine, he was about 5'10'' with salt and peppered hair. His voice was one of great annoyance, so the psycho left the store.

'That wasn't there earlier sir, this can't be one of our shirts. We don't sell Gucci'. The psycho's smile faltered slightly, he really loved that shirt.

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A/N

okay so this isn't the best first chapter, but please comment vote and pass on the word about it if you would be so kind!!!!

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