Chapter 83. Bonnie 'n Clyde

Ash's POV

I remember my first kill.

I thought he'd never die.

There I was, holding tightly onto his neck and squeezing for dear life, my own life flashing before my face if I so much as removed a finger from his neck.

It was gruesome.

Many people think there's no difference between killing someone with an object and doing it with your bare hands. There's a grave difference, I tell you. With an object, it's impersonal, and it feels like you're on the other side looking in on someone else doing it but using your hands - now - that's fucking personal.

That's what happened when I had to kill someone in order to stay alive. I can't joke and say it was an order when, in fact, it wasn't. I was fighting for my life. It was either kill or be killed. What made it worse was that I had to snuff the life out of someone, and I did it without any qualms, or so I thought, until it was all over, until I saw blood everywhere until I thought I was p