The Killer was staring at him, suspicious. And angry.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing. Just
checking the water. She leaks a bit, so
if I drive a long way she can get overheated and I can’t afford to buy a new
car.” Luigi tried to present an unfazed
demeanour.
The Killer stared at him and then giggled. It was remarkably unpleasant. He stuck his head forward and hissed at
Luigi, “It won’t be your problem!” And
then he cackled again.
“It won’t be your problem,” he repeated with another high-pitched
giggle. His eyes were no longer cold,
but looking into them, Luigi knew with absolute certainty that the Killer was
demented.
Of
course, thought Luigi. Anybody who kills for pleasure …. But it hadn’t seemed real before. You might say, “he must be mad!” But it was only when he looked into the
Killer’s eyes that he truly understood deep in his heart and soul what that
meant.
Oddly enough, this realisation gave him renewed
courage. And it replaced his anger and
fear with resolution. He had been
wondering whether he could talk the man down from his intentions. Now he knew that the only way to make the
world safe was to kill him, to stop him doing it again and again. And he was ready to do it. Like a rabid dog, the world would be a better
and safer place without this inhuman and utterly mad person in it.
