It wasn't quite like he expected. Seth stood over the dying man he had just slain. He hadn't really wanted to kill him, but he just wouldn't give up his wallet. Seth had never killed anyone, much less stab them in the chest. He looked down at his shaking hand, it still had its death grip on the taped handle of the homemade weapon. The man, much older than Seth, lay on the ground unmoving. He wasn't quite dead though, he could still hear what sounded like snoring, but the sound wasn't coming from his throat, it was coming from his lung's new airway between his ribs.

The usual sense of urgency crept into Seth, and he spun around, checking all directions for any witnesses, or anyone at all for that matter. He rummaged through the dying man's pockets and found the wallet. Stuffing it into his jacket, he wiped the blood from the blade that had once been a piece of metal trim of a door before putting it away as well. He checked the man's other pockets, just in case he might be holding other valuables, but didn't find any. The breaths were coming more slowly now, and they were much more labored. He raised his victim's sleeves and found a wristwatch, which also found its way into his pocket.

He checked the street again... nothing. He bent down and grabbed the man's legs, and dragged him into the short alley he had been laying in wait not two minutes ago. Seth left him there behind a dumpster. He had considered putting him inside, but that would mean getting blood on him. Inching his way back to the street, he poked his head out to once again make sure he was alone - he wasn't. Another well-dressed gentleman had turned the corner fifty feet down the street, and was walking straight toward Seth.

"Two in one night?" he considered. He was running out of time to make the choice.

He could hear the footsteps now.

Seth looked at his hands, one of which was covered in blood, and they were still shaking horribly. He wondered if it was just coming down, or if it was adrenalin.

The man was whistling, and Seth could even hear the jingle of keys in his pocket. A last second decision... He found that the man behind the dumpster had quit breathing as he crouched low next to him as the other man passed. Seth wiped his hand on a clean part of his victim's coat, then stood.


Not ten minutes later, he was at the door of his dealer. He could hear rock music coming from the other side, but it was low enough that no one in the surrounding apartments would complain. He knocked, and almost immediately Lance opened the door.

"What's up?"

"I need to come in," Seth blurted.

"You buying? I ain't got no room for freeloaders here." Lance cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms.

"Yes! Well, I think. I um..."

"You think?"

"Listen, I just give me five minutes! Let me use your bathroom!"

Lance's face showed concern. "Okay... You alright?" he asked as he pulled the door open, stepping inside.

"Yeah, I just need a minute," he said, rushing inside.

"You know the way," Lance said, closing the door behind him, but Seth was already at the bathroom door.

He was tempted to pull out the wallet and count his earnings, but first things first - he had to get this blood off him. It was a little hard, as some had soaked into his skin, but he managed to scrub most of it off. He checked his sleeves, and sighed when he found nothing but the normal dirt and grime on them.

Closing the lid to the toilet, he plopped down and sighed again. He rubbed his face, then his hair, then his hands went back down and covered his face. He still wasn't calming down any. "I know something that'll fix that though..."

He retrieved the wallet from his jacket and opened it. Seth's eyes widened when he found it to be stuffed full of twenty dollar bills. He checked the pockets of the wallet, and his mouth dropped... not only did he have a ton of cash, but he also had three credit cards - two Platinum cards and an American Express. He covered the driver's license and the small fold of pictures with his hand... he didn't want to give the dead man a face, just a dollar amount.

Seth dropped the wallet when there was a knock at the door. A female voice called out, "Hey asshole! You done yet?"

He could hear a muffled Lance yell at her, "Leave him the fuck alone bitch! Wait your fucking turn!"

Seth put the wallet into the inside pocket of his jacket and the bills and cards into his pant's pocket. He felt something there that hadn't been there before, and pulled it out.

"HOLY SHIT!" he cried.

A second later, Lance threw the door open, "What?!"

Seth didn't move, but instead kept staring at the watch. It was shinier than even white gold, and had small diamonds posted at each of the hours, as well on the minute and hour hands. He held up the watch to show Lance, "I think I'm going to be getting fucked up tonight."

Lance took the watch in his hand, turning it over. He held it up closer to the dim bathroom light, then handed it back to Seth, "No you're not, it's fake."

"WHAT!?" the words didn't quite escape his throat.

Lance laughed, "Man, I'm just messing with ya. Where'd you get it? Wait... I probably don't want to know." He paused, "Come on, I got some new stuff to show ya."


They were standing in Lance's kitchen, staring into his briefcase. He didn't have the best of drugs, but they weren't crap either. Seth picked up a bag of white powder. "How much?"

After hearing the price, Seth looked at Lance like he had just been struck, "Come on man!"

"Okay, okay. Friend Price."

"That's a little better," Seth smiled, "I'll take two."

"Sure thing man."

A knock at the front door and the briefcase seemed to vanish. Lance looked through the peephole and opened the door. A brunette and a girl with bright, fake red hair came in, both looked like they didn't need anything else that night. The thing about Lance, he didn't care. He even had a method for getting rid of people who overdosed. Seth felt something in his pants move when the red haired girl took off her coat, revealing clothing that was, well, very revealing. They both sat down on the couch, it was full of cigarette burns and smelled funny, but they didn't seem to mind at all.

Lance made his way back around the corner of the kitchen counter, calling over it to the newly arrived, "What'll it be tonight ladies? The usual?"

"Yeah... unless you got anything better," the brunette replied.

"I got a bunch of stuff, how much you wanna spend?"

"The same."

"Then no."

Lance retrieved the briefcase from under the sink, and Seth could have swore he heard the brunette mutter, "Asshole..." under her breath.

Lance scooped several spoonfuls of white powder into a small sealable bag and handed it to Seth. He looked at him and nodded toward the women sitting on the couch.

"Whatever man," Lance muttered, "Don't give none to the bitch over there though."

He walked over to the door leading into Lance's room. He waited for the red head to look up, and he motioned for her to come along, waving the bag of white powder as a lure. She smiled, and whispered something to her friend, who laughed. She got up and walked over to Seth, swaying her hips in such a fashion that he became unsure of just how long he'd be able to last.


Seth was laying on his back, trying to force himself to relax. Candice, as she introduced herself as, was coming up for air.

"Come here," he motioned with his finger.

She smiled wickedly, and slowly crawled up to him.


When he woke up, he found that he was no longer on the bed, or even in the same room. There was a distinct smell of stale beer, puke, and something else emanating from where he was laying. The girl he had spent the night with, to no surprise, was nowhere to be found. He knocked on Lance's door.

"Lance! I need to grab my stuff out of your room."

No reply.

"Lance!" he yelled, and pounded on the door, The door creaked open as his fist hit it. His hand went to his mouth to muffled his scream.

Lance, along with three women, lay strewn about the room. Lance and the brunette's eyes were wide open, blood dried where it had trickled out of their mouths, and there was a distinct puncture wound under both of their chins. Candice was turned on her side, facing the window, prompting Seth to go inside to see if she had met the same fate.

Her body was covered with sheets, but her eyes were still closed. Seth shook her gently, and looked around frantically for his clothes and jacket. Spotting them draped over the only chair in the room, he rushed getting them on.

"Candice!" he half whispered, half screamed.

His pants were on, and his shirt wasn't far after it.

"Candice!"

His jacket was on his back, and he was getting his second shoe on.

"CANDICE!" he screamed, and shook her.

She didn't stir.

He put his hand down on the bed next to her and felt something cold and wet. Looking down, he saw red liquid oozing through the sheet. He pulled back the sheet and nearly fell down... The point of his makeshift knife was protruding through her left breast.

"Oh God!" he choked out.

His hands shook violently as he pulled the blade from her back. More blood came out as he slowly pulled it free. Suddenly, Candice's eyes and mouth flew open, and Seth could smell blood on her breath as she exhaled, trying to scream. Seth stood frozen as she put her arm up and held onto his sleeve. It fell when the last of her blood leaked from the wound.

He wiped the blade on the sheets quickly and was about to put it back in his pocket when an idea struck him. He lay the knife back on the bed and left, leaving the door unlocked.

Fifteen minutes later, he came back carrying two three-gallon plastic gas jugs. He poured one of the containers of fuel over the entire bed, soaking each of them. The second one, he used to douse the rest of the apartment. He left himself a path to the kitchen, and once he had emptied the can, he retrieved Lance's briefcase.

As he watched the flames shoot out from the windows, he vowed never to touch drugs or harm another human being again.


Five years later, Seth was walking to an upscale party downtown. He glanced at the expensive platinum watch he wore, and smiled - "10:30, plenty of time." He thought about his newly acquired fortune, but ignored its origin. He had cleaned his life up, and used his 'starting capital' to invest in a new company that his brother, whom Seth hadn't seen in years, was just starting. It took a lot of work, but his family finally took him back. A lot of it had to do with Seth staying clean, which had been almost impossible sometimes.

Turning a corner, his smile faded as an old memory surfaced. His face contorted to show disgust. He was approaching the spot where he had murdered the first person he had ever killed. Solemn, he walked past slowly.

He didn't want to, but something compelled him to look down the alley. He spotted an older man sitting across from where a dumpster once had been placed. Seth felt horrible, emotions were ripping him to pieces, making him sick. Turning down the alley, an idea came to him - he might not be able to give back what he took, but he could at least give something back. He knelt next to the man huddled against the wall, and tapped him on the shoulder when he found him asleep.

The homeless man's eyes flew open, and pushed himself away when he realized Seth standing over him. "Wha-What do you want!?"

Seth's heart sank, and he reached into his breast pocket for his wallet.

"I did something horrible here a long time ago... something that I could never take back. Because I did that, though, I stopped being who I was. I don't know why, but I feel like if I give something back, it would help me... I dunno, help me cope?"

The homeless man remained still, his eyes still wide.

Seth opened his wallet and took out a small stack of the bills stashed inside. He handed it to the rag clad man, but he sat motionless. Seth sighed - maybe he had frightened him too bad. He left the bills on the ground, "Here, get a hot meal or something."

Smiling at the man, Seth stood and walked toward the opening to the street. He turned back to see if the homeless man had picked up the bills. His eyes widened and he nearly jumped when the man was standing not an inch away. He opened his mouth to speak, but found that he was completely out of breath. He looked down, and noticed that the other man's hand was balled into a fist against Seth's side.

The homeless man slowly backed away, and Seth watched as a thin sliver of metal seemed to grow out of his side into the man's hand. He grew weak, and strength left his legs. He fell to the ground, and stared up at the man. He tried to scream, but he couldn't. Seth forced himself to take a breath, and thought he heard somebody snoring down the alley. He tried again to call out for help, but only a squeak managed to escape his lips.

The homeless man knelt by Seth's head, and he finally spoke, "It's really hard to call for help when you have a new hole in ya, isn't it?"

Seth felt his body growing weaker with each passing second. "yo... you!" he managed to whisper.

"Bingo!" Seth's first victim cried out. "I bet you thought me dead, didn't you? No sir! My friend behind me didn't see me down the next street, and came back for me. But I bet scum like you doesn't have any friends, do you?"

Seth put pressure over the wound, and tried to scream again, a strange, inhuman sound came from his throat, but it was pretty loud.

"Oh... Oh no you don't!" The blade came down in the man's hand and punctured Seth's other lung. He felt himself being dragged, then nothing. He heard the shuffling of feet around him, then a fading voice said something to him, something that sounded like, "This is mine!" Seth felt the watch being pulled from his wrist.

Then there was nothing left but the darkness.