..."I'm just innit for the blood an' gore. See, you think of yourself as a hero. Same as many others here. You're just deluding yourselves. We're all here for the murdering. I look into your eyes an' see dark and empty pits, knowin' my eyes must look the same." Frank picked up a fairly large stone lying in the cage. He stood and raised the stone above his head, towering over Dave.

     "Frank, whaddya doin'?" Dave said, concern tinging his voice.

     Frank brought the stone down, smashing it down on Dave's head before Dave could react. Dave's head gave way like a tomato after a few hits. Blood came flowing out, painting the floor red. Bits and pieces of Dave's brain went flying, bodily fluids going wih it.  Squelching noises and squishy sounds issued forth. Broken bone showed through the skin in a hodgepodge of human head. He smashed the stone down again and again until Dave's head was practically non-existent, a deranged grin on his face. Honestly, Dave's head could have passed for a large egg that had been messily opened and then had it's shell ground to bits while someone smeared the red yolk all over the place with their hand. Blood had splattered all over Frank like he was some kind of psychopathic killer. Which he was.

Frank checked Dave's watch.

     "Got some time to spare." Frank searched his body and found the keys, letting himself out of the cage. Frank began to monologue to the empty air as if Dave was still there.

     "Masters promised me I'd have all the people I could kill if I murdered you right 'fore three. You made it so easy, Davey boy. Didn't even resist."

     "Why else didja think Masters locked us all up in pairs, with one side gettin' a private message? Masters was testin' us, the worthy. Did we have th' patience ta endure an' stake prey out? Could we strike quick an' fast when th' time's right? Were we resourceful 'nough?"

     He was also gettin' rid of th' useless ones. Ones like you, who think they're gonna be a hero at the end of the day. Me, I'll be baskin' in blood 's much 's I want. Killer takes all!"

     Frank walked down the cold, sterile halls. He began to laugh manically without ceasing. He walked farther and farther, till he was naught but a speck in the distance. Soon, nothing was left but the echoes of his asinine laughter.
      Dave's body still lay sprawled on the cage floor. There was one more thing that Dave's smashed head had been right about. They would be immortalized by trees and park benches. Of course Frank didn't care one whit about it, as he was a psychopathic serial murderer. But Frank's merry band of genocidal killers were going to be the winners, and the winners write history. The winners always write history.