I looked out of my window, it was sunset. I opened it wide enough for my body and climbed out, as I had done so many times before. I slid down the tiled roof and on to the gritty roof of the old garage, then skipped off on to the small driveway. I was as agile as a cat, and many people compared me to them - but they don't know the real reason I have to be. I'm an Anima Snatcher. I kill souls. Don't treat me like the bad guy - they're all dead anyway.
I ran to the end of my street, my black scythe bashing against my back, and my throwing daggers jangling in my pocket. I turned right and slowed down, listening out for any noise. Any noise, any at all, was my key to tonight's victory. I stopped at an alley-way, and crouched in the shadows, waiting. I didn't have to wait long, though, my "key" came after about 5 minutes.
He was a man who looked in his mid or late 30's, and was muscular with lots of tatoo's and stubble on his face. How'd he die? I thought, but it didn't really matter. He'd be off to God-knows where in a couple of minutes, that was my job.
He walked past me, not noticing me, then I crept out behind him. I got my scythe out and sliced his head off, killing him a second time. I laughed as he slumped on the ground, going paler and paler. I wandered off, knowing the the body - and head - would be gone in a few seconds. I slung my bloody scythe over my back and started to sprint off, to my next hotspot for killing.
This was my life, I loved it and wouldn't sawp it for anything.