Neighborhood Psychopath

There is a murderer living in my neighborhood. He is a silent killer, a dark silhouette against a stark white frame of silver. He is free of restraints, free of bonds, free of laws. He has not been caught once by the police, despite their many vain attempts. Even some scientists have tried to assist in his capture, but he still remains a free man to this day.
I am waiting by my bus stop when I see his slim figure leaning against a wall, flicking a cigarette in the air. I decide to strike up some conversation, seeing as he is so notorious around these parts.
"Hey, uh…" I trail off.
He turns his head to lock eyes with me. "Hey. Wanna know my name?" he asks.
"Sure," I reply hesitantly.
"AIDS."
"Aydes?"
"A-I-D-S," he pronounces slowly, spelling out each letter.
"Is that from some foreign country or anoth-"
"Nope," he cuts me off, "it's an acronym."
"Your name is an acronym?" I ask, surprised.
He exhales a puff of smoke. "Yeah. Wanna know what it stands for?"
"Sure," I say for the second time.
"Acquired immune deficiency syndrome," he recites with a bored look on his face. "But you can just call me Paul."
"Alright Paul, why are you named after a, uh…" I pause, "a disease?"
"Because that's how I do my job."
I look at him suspiciously once more, eyeing his face intently. Satisfied, I turn my head towards the sky with a look of puzzlement, "Paul, I've always wanted to know how come you haven't gotten caught yet."
He grins broadly, extending his stubble of a beard across his cheeks. "I get asked that a whole lot, you know. I haven't explained it to anyone yet," he stops to think, then says, "You're gonna be the first to find out."
My eyebrows raise in a moment of skepticism. "Sounds interesting," I say simply.
He leans against the wall once more and takes another puff from his cigarette. "It's because I'm not just named after the disease," he gazes deeply into my eyes, then adds in a serious tone, "I am the disease."
I walk away at this point. Here I am talking to a psychopathic killer that thinks he's some strange disease, and… Dammit! I missed my bus. So much for showing up on time for that meeting. Well, at least I'm free for the rest of the day.
I swivel my head back to face Mr. AIDS again. He's looking at me with a big grin on his face.
"Wanna hang out at my place?" I yell over to him.
He paces over to me slowly. "Anytime."
As he approaches, I wrap his hands in mine and tie them together with a rope from my pocket. Holding a knife to his neck, I begin shouting, "You took my son, you bastard!"
He looks into my eyes calmly and says, "He should've worn a condom."