I've always enjoyed attending the dinners of the upper class. Watching the women converse about their long silken dresses, while the men boast about their monstrous incomes. You might find it silly that I enjoy such occasions, but my reasoning is very just.
You see, with their wealth comes a false sense of security. You can smell it on them as easily as you can smell their expensive colognes. It makes it almost comical when one of them just, disappears.
You can feel their fear, covered by their silly facades. What's even more humorous is when they see the death. Gunshot's are the most intriguing to watch. Seeing them scatter like tiny rodent fleeing a cat. Even they return to their impudent lives though, just as I do. The only difference is, they don't know my existence. They don't even care. They simply lay in their luxuries that they find so comforting, as I pick them off one by one.
