She tried to scream as his fist slammed into her face. He could feel her nose fracture under his knuckles. Blood flowed from the gash on her hand, where he had lovingly run the tip of his knife through.
He stared into her eyes, and the fear he saw in them sent a delicious quiver down his spine as he felt the hate welling up in him.
He had always known he would never find love. Accepted it. Had lived happily with it (except for the occasional voice deep down telling him he was missing something).
Then he saw her.