The twist in the tale

All it takes is one quick twist and they snap. I am always surprised at how easy it is to break them, how simply the give up their heads. That satisfying snapping sound, that crack as my hands twist in one fluid movement.

Once that is done there is the beautiful sighing sound as they release their last breath. I could listen to that all day and never be bored.

I like to feel my grip tighten, to feel that slight burn as my fingers slip and my skin is rubbed raw. There is only that small amount of struggling, the minute amount of fighting back. It rarely lasts long before they succumb to the wrench of my two hands.

There have been times where I have not had the strength in my arms, my hands. A cloth wrapped around my hands seems to bring the urge to break, to sever. My eyes are bulging, the tendons in my hands are almost at the point of fracture and sweat breaks on my brow, but I don’t turn away from the job in hand. It must be done. I am thirsty for the feeling of satisfaction once the job is complete, once it lies broken in my hands.

It’s difficult to describe, but I know you’ve all felt the feeling at least once. Don’t deny it, we have evidence. As soon as we see red, we can’t help ourselves. Admit it. There is no need to feel remorse; the deed is done now, you can’t take it back. Ever.

Surely you know what I am speaking of, don't you?