It was in these moments that Al Elloan felt like God, when he was covered in someone’s blood. He savored the moment of having control over life and death. It was an ephemeral pleasure, but it was one of the only things that he truly enjoyed in his life. His job was menial, his love life was non-existent; the only time Al felt alive was when he was standing triumphant over his prey with weapon in hand. He had murdered over a dozen people and he had no intentions of stopping. There was no one ...