There's something missing, Mr. Dennis pondered as he surveyed the scene before him. He'd done this many times before, and yet...and yet it felt different; not as satisfying. He recalled the thrill of the chase, the anticipation, the act itself, but that was years ago.
Perhaps I've lost my touch?
Maybe he was now so desensitised that it held no meaning, no pleasure.
He absent-mindedly wiped off the axe, removing stray pieces of hair and flesh. The dismembered remains before him just looked untidy.
With a sigh, he started placing the bits into a sturdy black sack.