[ WP ] `` Why do you kill ? '' `` Because I can . Because I 'm good at it . Because I like it . ''

“ Why do you kill? ” 
 
 Toby lay on the floor allowing his inner monologue to wander for a moment, as it usually does when the Sun is high in the sky, shining through the gap in the curtains. Why indeed? 
 
 Was he taught how to do it? Was it a bad upbringing that drove him to murder? Doubtful. He lived a life of luxury ever since he was brought home. He had affection from his family, and offered it back in spades. No real unhappy moments as far as he could remember. He certainly did n't do it in desperation, as he had all the food, drink, and company anyone could ever hope for. 
 
 Was it to protect what was rightfully his? Again, not the right answer. He and his family did not have any major threats. Sure, the occasional accident on the nearby roads could be considered a liability, but it was out of his control. No real enemies, at least none that could be a real danger. Besides, he kept a look out all the time, watching over the neighbors and making sure nothing strange happened. Mrs Jenkins across the road did pass away a few months ago, but that had nothing to do do with him. Probably nothing to do with him. Maybe. 
 
 He shook his foot to stop an itch, caused by the Sun slowly creeping up his leg as he pondered. 
 
 The question remained. Why? What caused him to stalk around, looking for prey? Why did he take innocent victims from their families, brought them home, and pulled their intestines out? The macabre display that his loved ones reviled, but tolerated. 
 
 The thought conjured up his most recent kill. A small body that was difficult to catch, but it was not nimble enough to get away from Toby's finely-honed physique and techniques. He relived the feelings of those few seconds of slaughter. Happiness. Satisfaction. A feeling of release. 
 
 The Sun started to dazzle Toby, warming his face and telling him to get up. 
 
 His memory stirred something inside him. He had a compulsion to do it again. To leave the house. To find another soon-to-be artwork for him to lay on the floor. 
 
 He found the answer to his own question. “ Because I can, ” he told himself. “ Because I'm good at it. Because I like it. ” 
 
 Toby stood up, stretched, and steeled himself for the new hunt, before going through the cat flap to enjoy the rest of his day.
