famous last words

I sit on the windowsill, looking into the dimly lit room. Its a dark night, and the air is chilly. The moon is out, like a pale orb in the velvet sky. I sit still, my breathing slow, completely quiet, watching the man sitting by the dying candle. Scribbling furiously in a journal, he is bent over and facing away from me. Frequently, he casts furtive glances all around. He knows there is something amiss, but doesn't know what.
I chuckle silently. If only he knew, he wouldn't be sitting there, but running for his life. He had stolen from one of the most powerful mages in the city, and had believed that he had done it with utmost skill and subtlety. I shake my head, even a blind ogre would have been more careful. Obviously, my role in this matter is simple. He dies, and by my hand.
As I sit and watch this helpless fool, my mind begins to wander. For how long have I been doing this? I'm not as young as I once used to be. Warning bells begin to hum in my brain. I ignore them. I take my mask off, and scratch my beard. Why am I doing this? The warning bells are growing in intensity. I know that there is something wrong, but I still ignore it. My eyes lose focus of the man in the room as my thoughts move inward. What will I gain? One more kill, a little bit more money. My brow scrounges with thought. Would I like to die with nothing at hand but my dagger and some gold? I would hate it. But what choice do I have? Walk away. Leave the man alone. Do not kill him, and offer no explanation to the man who hired you. Do what you are good at, and disappear into the shadows. Find a different life in them. Suddenly starting, I nearly fall off the windowsill. Where did that come from? Thinking it to be some mental intrusion, I immediately throw up all my cerebral defenses, and wait. But there is nothing, and I can't discern any tampering having occurred. But such clarity is not natural. Shaking my head, I try clearing my vision by blinking. It doesn't work. But as my thoughts clear, realisation dawns. With a grimace I realise that it hasn't come from any outside source, but rather it is the culmination of my own darker thoughts. After every kill, with my blade running red, doubt seeps into my mind, and I wonder where the end of this bloody road is. That clear thought is a sign. The road is ended for me. I can no longer walk it. My mind is made up. I turn, and begin to walk away, and I find I can't take a step. Taking a deep breath, I look at the blade in my hand. Looking back through the window at the hunched figure, lust creeps into me. I close my eyes and try to steady myself. I have to walk away. But the lust is too great... Ok, maybe one last time. Never again, I vow. Turning towards the window, I slowly begin to walk, burying all the feelings that overwhelmed me only minutes ago under the lust. One last time... Famous last words.