Sinister Days
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- Parts 2
The man grins with his teeth; a row of tiny porcelain cut glass blindingly bright between a set of two thin pale lips. It's a grin of a man unhinged, emotionless, held by nothing, and seen as nothing more than the perpetual mask of normality he wears on the occasional need to blend in among others; the others of sanity and reason.
It's sickening and gut-wrenching.
"I don't kill for the pleasure it gives me," he begins, his voice a soft undertone of malice and wry humor, as he leans back comfortably in his seat and crosses one slim-fitting trousered leg over the other.
"No, no. You have to understand." One long, perfectly manicured finger begins a rhythmical tap against the table. Tap ... Tap ... Tap.
"It's more than that... way more than you can comprehend."
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