Set in Mexico we see the story of a man who is a killer. He tells us the stories of how it came to be that he began killing. His tool of choice is a very sharp knife. He wasn't always a killer. His history is an interesting one. He was a good kid growing up in a bad world around him. The drug cartel had taken over their world and there was nothing that their families could do. His life changing memory was the day his little brother was gunned down by the cartel. He was never the same. So he picked up and knife and swore to kill every cartel member that he could It gave him a sense of life again. The community was being rewarded with every murder he committed, but when he gets tired and decides to turn himself into the police he meets the woman who will become the love of his life. Can he change for her or will she eventually find out who he is and what he’s done?

Male- Deep Cuts

  • (Before us stands a man sharpening a knife. He is enthralled by what he is doing. This activity gives him great joy.) There's something very beautiful about the strength of a knife, the shine, the sharpness of the blade, just something quite beautiful. This particular knife was handed down to me from my grandfather. He was a hunter in Mexico. My grandfather was a firm believer in catching the food that you eat. A man that knows how to take care of his home. I think he was a very wise man and I think if he were here right now he'd be proud of me. Pride is a very valuable thing in my culture. It is probably what got me where I am today. The first thing that I killed with this life was a snake. It is a hot, hot summer day in Mexico and my brother and I went into the desert and we are playing. That is what you do when you're poor and in Colima, Mexico you walk out into the desert and you play with the plant life or chase animals. But on this hot summer day, I think it was about eight and my brother was five and we are running through the desert and my brother stopped, (Beat) frozen dead in his tracks. As I peaked over his shoulder I hear the rattler. I told my baby brother to move, go, run back home. He was so scared he peed on himself right there. I grabbed my grandpas knife, jumped from behind my brother and stabbed it into the head of the snake, the blood ran down the blade, my little brother ran as fast as he could home and I stayed there for hours staring, motionless at the snake, admiring my work. It squirmed for a bit but I felt like I should wait so that it wouldn't die by himself. I felt terrible that I had killed this living thing but I felt good that I saved my brothers' life. It was the best feeling in the world.