Murder beyond infinity

It was supposed to be just another day at work. Just another day before James was freed from this. This bloodstained mess on the floor. The bruised, battered, beaten, bloodied, and botched body before him. The stench… was something he had gotten used to. That and the struggle that people tended to put forth when he deemed it was their time to go. It always felt the same though. Some 20 to 50 years down the drain. People who could change the world- some who have already left their marks.

All if it crashed down onto the shoulders of James Taylor. A minimalist. The guy you might bump into on the street who would apologize profusely for spilling your drink and offer to buy you a new one. A timid guy. A shy guy.

Not a murderer.

But that’s the catch.