Skin to metal, it slices her throat to silence a scream. It eases into her body and penetrates her ribs, tearing and devouring her organs, in and out, over and over again. The smell is fresh, the paint is warm.

Limb from limb, it's tearing her body open at the joints and taking her apart like a paper doll. She can't scream, she can't move, and she can feel everything. She gets to see it all and watch herself become anew.

Human to art, a masterpiece among the crop. How joyous the harvest has been. Oh, the things you can do with a knife and the thrill it provides as you play god, not gracious, but cruel. A sadistic sinful guilty joy it brings me to see them suffer until the light from their eyes fades away.

I wake in my bed, covered in the color of madness, the colors of insanity. I look in the mirror everyday with a twisted smile on my face wishing I could remain painted in my glorious monstrosity. It's funny how quickly life can change for you when you're losing your mind...

I discovered recently that I don't see blood like other people see blood, I see it as paint; in fact I feel it as paint to. I am an artist and now I am also a murderer, but who cares?

I laugh gleefully. Some people deserve to die and even god kills unbiased without so much as a second thought. This thing I have isn't a curse... It's a gift! I can turn humanity into a work of art with the ability to see like I can!

Every night as I'm walking home from work, it takes over me... A feeling, a sensation to create! I can only do so much until I black out from the adrenaline rush.

"It's like a drug... A highly addictive substance that I can't resist."

"Didn't you ever see anything wrong with this?"

Six months of killing without distinction. They were the best days of my miserable life and, oh how I loved to play, not only god, but also the immortal artist. I am a true artist, a man who knows no boundaries. I am immortal and I will live forever in my works!

"He... He's dead..."

"What just happened to him? He was just fine and then he started convulsing and puss started leaking out of everywhere..."

"Is the doctor coming?"

"He's here now."

Art is a tool of immortality, more powerful then any weapon. I the wielder and I am a god.

"Autopsy report?"

"This damned bastard had a cyst in his brain... A giant intraventricular tumor causing a mass amount of psychosis. The tumor initiated his schizophrenia and his uncontrollable urge to kill and kill and kill... If he would've just gone to a doctor he would've survived."