Kill Him If You Can

Gershon relished the look in the eyes of his victims as life slowly left their bodies.

Sitting in an inconspicuous corner of the steps leading up to the Lincoln Memorial on this cold mid-November evening, Gershon skimmed through a mental list of all the dying eyes he had ever studied. He preferred to kill his victims at close range, looking them intently in the eyes. This wasn’t some sort of sadistic pleasure for him; it was pure curiosity and a quest. It was a quest for just one lucid momen...