I blend with the shadows as if I, myself were a part of them. The mist rises from the ground all around me. To me the fog represents the fallen souls trying to escape from Hell. My mother always told me I was little off.

I look down at my right black gloved hand. Then I gaze at my left; that one is holding the stainless blade. I get hypnotized by it’s sparkle as the knife is bathed in the moonlight. It’s charm is orgasmic.

Then I see her. She is so beautiful. Her long, dark hair bounces in the wind as she walks down the street so heavenly. Her dark brown eyes have an unique mystery behind them.

I ask myself, “What could bring her to my domain? My alley? What do you suppose could have drawn her across my deadly path?”

She could be using this alley as a shortcut home, or she could be just be walking enjoying the cool evening air. None of it matters now, for she has broken the number one rule of the wild--the prey has traveled on the hunter’s ground.

I let her get closer. The dark voices begin ringing in my ear. Then the deamon takes over me.

I step out in front of her; our eyes become locked together. I see fear in her soul. I extend the blade and pierce her midsection. She now begins to scream. Her screeching is the most wonderful and satisfying sound I have ever heard. I drive the cold steel deeper. Her blood flows out of her body as if she were a fountain. She gives off a high pitched squeal.

I gaze in to her sympathetic eyes. They begin to close slowly as the life fades from her body. She becomes as still as a statue. Her soft skin is already turning ice cold. I kiss her cheek and stand to my feet. The voices silence themselves.

I journey back within the shadows and disappear into the fog. Now I will wait for the next to travel across my deadly path.

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