My hand was grabbing baby soft hair; it made my stomach wrench a bit as I slammed the connected head into the concrete below. That was its third and final trip from the air to the ground, for it was now dead. I stood up heaving; my hands shaking with rage, not regret. My breath trembled as I released it. I had done my job. I dropped to my knees and prayed with all my might, getting the satisfaction that I had done what the Almighty wants of me. He knows that this world is a cruel one, so I must return the souls to their rightful place. This had been my fifth murder - my fifth deed for the betterment of the world. I looked at the crooked body beneath me, blood formed a halo around the skull. This is why I kill the way I do, for this image, so I know that they are now angels looking down on me in love. My eyes crinkled a bit as I put some hair that I ripped out in its rightful place on the head. A soft smile formed at my lips. Yes, the legs may be broken; the heart may be done beating; the ribs are no protection in their broken haze, but the soul is in a better place.