Machete

The little girl was sleeping innocently, and as Lucas walked in, she showed no sign of waking. Lucas smiled to himself and brought the machete down on the kid. Her head rolled off the blood stained bed and onto the floor, dripping blood.
Lucas woke up, panting. He looked at the clock, which showed 23:07. He had been having the same dream for almost a week now, and he just couldn't get the image of the little girl's head falling off out of his head. In order to try and relax himself, he walked to the all night chemist and bought some sleeping pills.
When he got home, he swallowed the pills with a glass of water and fell into another torturous dream.
The knife slit the little boy's throat, letting the blood spurt from the wound. The boy fell with a thud, and Lucas smiled as he retrieved the knife, now stained with blood.
The next day, Lucas woke, regretting that he had taken the pills. The last dream he had had reminded what he was – a mass murderer. He could not stop himself from reaching for his shotgun, and loaded the machine while climbing the stairs.
The day was a bright and sunny, a beautiful day for a walk. On the roof, he waited for his victim, which this time was a mother and her son – easy prey. With many times of practice, Lucas shot the boy through the head with precise accuracy, spraying blood on the footpath. The mother fled, quite hesitantly, but it didn't matter since one kill was enough for the day. First kill in ages, and it felt good.
Later that day, the cops came to investigate, of course, but Lucas was in no hurry to leave. Lucas pulled a combat rifle out and shot it at the policeman, blowing his head partly off. Parts of his head flew off in all directions and blood was pouring on the ground. After that, Lucas ran out the back door and went on running.
When night rose, he snuck into a house that was in a convenient place for hiding. Lucas found himself in a dark room with a little girl in her bed. The little girl was sleeping innocently, and as Lucas walked in, she showed no sign of waking. Lucas smiled to himself and brought the machete down on the kid. Her head rolled off the blood stained bed and onto the floor, dripping blood.
Lucas woke up, panting.

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