I've been working on a mystery murder novel as a gift to my parents who love reading them.
It's been a lot of fun and I've approached the project in a way I don't think anyone else ever has before, but I needed some deep insight to the mind of a murderer.
Having absolutely no inclination to commit premeditated murder against any fellow human being no matter how much they might actually deserve it, I had to find another living, breathing, easily accessible subject to conduct the research on.
Enter the ubiquitous, ugly little housefly.
In this part of the country there are lots of them around, even deep into wintertime. And after a good snow, they are a cinch to spot clinging to window glass.
The little shit eaters are a nuisance, to say the least. Leaving little specks produced from the various kinds of shit they ingest insensitively deposited on my nice, clean windowpanes. This angers me and they are small but not entirely defenseless since they can fly around like mad and I cannot. The perfect candidate for application of genuine murderous wrath.
I used to just swat the disgusting little invaders to get rid of them, but for this research I decided to explore what sorts of pleasures might be experienced by killing them slowly. Making them suffer. Listening closely for them to cry out in desperation "HELP ME! HEEELP MEEE!"
So I slowly move the flyswatter close and then press with down gradually-increasing pressure, at first merely trapping them against the clean windowpane they are befouling, then pressing on until I hear–and even more importantly can feel–their exoskeletal bodies crunch under the load.
Then I watch as their life force ebbs, their little legs and wings twitching a bit before the exquisite end of an irritating creature.
After my in-the-name-of-literature murder spree and all of my windows are free of the pests–as well as a few of those damned Asian stinkbugs so prone to come in during the winter months–I reflected on the carnage wrought. Surprisingly, I feel satisfaction with no pushback of any remorse at all.
A highly effective bit of research.