"You don't have to do this."

I looked down at the bloody, bruised man. This son of a bitch was responsible for the death of six people directly, another four indirectly. A lot of blood spilled on carpets, a lot of tear stained clothing. He'd left a trail of chaos and debris across this city that was going to require a lot of custodial work. And that made my blood boil. 

"I know I don't have to do this," I said as I pointed the gun at his face. "I [i]want[/i] to do this. Some messes... are worth making."

His last sob for mercy was cut short by the two quick pops of my revolver.