He always thought violence was quite funny, and in ways he was quite right. He liked it best when it was brutal. The more 'disgusting' it was, the more he liked it. When he was a small child he was satisfied with just beating up other children and watching violent movies, but now that he had become mature, he had to have the 'real stuff'. The fresh scent of death is what made him live from day to day.
But most of all he was good at not being caught. The main reason for this is that he never left behind any witnesses, living ones that is. He was still rather new at the 'killing game', be he was getting better. He found a new joy when he discovered guns. He liked the noise they made, he liked how they smelt, he liked how they felt, he liked how they made the body "dance" as the clip emptied its contents into the flesh.
Many people didn't like him. He killed all of them.
He now killed people who didn't even know him, but he suspected that had they known him, they too wouldn't like him.
At present he had a Jati-Matic in his hand. He like the Jati-Matic. It was a fine work of Finnish art. Many unique features made it his favourite weapon. The fact that he could hold it in one hand while shooting, even on the full auto setting, was one of his favorite features. This was unusual for automatic pistols. The muzzle climb on most automatic pistols irritated him, (he had to spend too much time concentrating on the gun and not enjoying the 'show' it was providing for him) but with the Jati-Matic's upward recoiling bolt the problem was solved. He liked that.
Today he had opted for the forty round box, instead of the twenty. He aimed his 'little baby' toward the small man who cringed before him. He smiled gently, hoping to make the entire situation seem more friendly. Although he was quite selfish, he wanted the small man to enjoy his last moment alive, of course he would not enjoy it as much as the man with the Jati-Matic, but the man with the Jati-Matic had spend much more time organizing this event. He deserved to have more fun.
The man had decided to go option free today. Sometimes he would use the laser targeting device. He would use it when he wanted to shoot someone from a great distance (This was rare, seeing he would miss the victim's facial expression). The silencer was never used. Without the loud crack that sent the 9mm bullet down the Jati-Matic's eight inch barrel at 1,312 feet per second, the moment would almost be ruined. The helpless scream of the victim could not be properly juxtaposed by the sheer power of the Jati-Matic.
The man squeezed the trigger all the way back, thus informing the very keen Jati-Matic to fire automatic. Two and a half seconds later the Jati-Matic had emptied the forty round clip. The small man had only stood twenty feet away from the man with the Jati-Matic, each bullet had taken only 0.0152439 seconds to reach the small man. The small man's flesh had noticed the bullets as they rushed towards it, and had given up any notion of trying to stop even one of them. The bullets gently slipped in the man's chest. Had the bullets been alive they would have smiled at their own work, for it was quite fine.
The small man did not smile. The small man no longer stood. The small man was no longer twenty feet away from the still smoking Jati-Matic.
Behind the quietly rising smoke stood the man, who was definitely smiling and couldn't wait to do it again.