The nameless face

The bitter light of day

I still don't understand why I let people get to me so much. But this man. He grinds my bones. I've been watching, waiting, and now it's time. My plans make me smile, the thrill of the chase.

Winter is the best time for this, the early darkness and bitter cold. The frost is beginning to form on the ground beneath my feet. The crunch as I step forward, I imagine the cracking of his bones, the tearing of his skin and the gentle trickle of his blood.

This is true happiness, but I've suppose that my twisted view. Nothing can compare to the adrenaline rush I get from the kill. I slink against the wall the shadows my blanket of protection from discovery. 'The Nameless face strikes again!' I see the headlines already, I'm famous. It never find it hard slipping back into the norm. The mundane everyday. But this, this is special. I'm free to be me, for the killer instinct to be born.

I freeze, my back flush against the wall. My eyes pinned to him. Oh I've waited too long for this moment. From the moment I first clasped eyes on him, I knew he would meet a sticky end at my expense. But unfortunately for him he doesn't have a damn clue. There's movement, I watch as the doors open and put he steps. He's not with her tonight, see I told you I plan these things well.

He walks towards the car park, head held high., arms swinging. The arrogance of him rattles me. Just swanning around like he owns the place. But little does he know, people like him don't survive for long on my patch. I can smell the blood pulsing through his veins, the salty sweat dripping from his pores.

The night is silent, just the distant sirens and his heart beating through his chest. He walked a little faster, but he'll never out pace me. I'm always one step a head. I tap my pocket, its still there. Now time for the fun part. We head around the corner, his headphones resting in his ears. He can't hear me as I creep up behind him, I take the knife from my pocket. His flinches and the cold metal of the blade presses against the skin on his neck. The tip pierces his flesh, the Yelp of pain rings in my ears, the devilish smile on my lips. The red liquid that quenches my lust for death. For the power, the control and the pleasure. It's me again, I say to him but not out loud that wouldn't be intelligent. I push the knife in deeper, the left common carotid now well and truly destroyed. The blood oozes out, a little stream down his arm, creating a puddle at his feet. He looks at me, straight in the eyes. The fear dominates his, he's got nothing left. His fight is leaving him, the life draining from his every pore. And then there's me standing before him, I'm victorious once more. No ifs or buts, just the cold hard facts. And in the bitter light of day they'll all see what a mess he really is. He slumps to the floor, my work here is done. I take out my cloth and the HCl and clean off the blade sliding it black into my pocket.

I look round, there's no one in sight. I see my get away, as the trees cast down their shapes inviting me into their depths, their branches keeping me safe from any prying eyes. Another successful night. Tomorrow I'll make the front page once again. 'The Nameless face back from the dead!'

--

The next morning the winter sun melts the last of the frost from the night. The trees bare branches tower above the ground waving down out the grass. I walk along the path and down the street. The hospital is before me. Police cars surround the area. The wailing screams of Connie as Rita comforts her. I walk closer, there on the ground he lies, the blood clotted and dry. He met a pretty brutal end, dear Jacob people like you deserve to be taught a lesson.