The nameless face

Softly, Softly

So I'm back here again, the night surrounds me like a blanket of protections. No one sees me and no will ever find me. I'm invisible, just the nameless face that no one actually knows, or that's what they think. But I know every one of them, by name and by face. I applaud myself on my photographic memory. They see me day in day out, day after day, week after week, month after month and yet still no one knows that I'm 'The nameless face'. It adds to the thrill if I'm being honest, but now it's not really the time for honesty.

There he is, I need to move, always need to be one step ahead. I know my way around like the back of my hand. Down the steps, into through the fire exit I propped open earlier. Everything was set. The adrenaline was kicking in, I was ready.

I make my way down the corridor, there's a store cupboard on my right that will do. I need to remain anonymous, another face among the crowd. I slip in, unnoticed by anyone. I leave the door slightly ajar I have to have a way of seeing my victim. As the darkness seeps around me, I feel at home. The thrill I get from the attack never fades.

I hear footsteps, my eyes peek out of the gloom. It's him. I keep silent as he walks on by and then it's time I remove myself silently, step by step I follow behind him. Softly, softly as I draw nearer. He goes to turn as he reaches the door. Its time, my hand moves from my side striking him in the temple, he falls backwards hitting his head against the door frame, and I take the blade from my pocket impaling his left kidney. The blood begins to soak through his clothes as I remove the metal from his body. The pleasure is all mine, his pain is always my gain.

I turn his body back over, his eyes were wide open complete with the glint of fear. Death obviously occurring upon the impact of the fall. I've always loved the taste of fear even from a young age, me and my siblings fought and it was until id made them cry I felt satisfied. I had power, I had always craved control. I thrived on their desperation, the pleas of hope, and the attempts to in flicked guilt upon me. It's what I survive on.

I need to move his body to a more public place and clean up his mess. The lift yes, my best idea by far. I grab his wrist twisting his body over careful to keep his head from touching the floor, I don't need any more blood anywhere than I already have as time is of the essence. I call for the lift. It comes to life as the doors open. I load the body. Now to decide which floor, 3 seems as good as any. I key in the number and step out as I watch the doors close my work here is nearly done.

Back down the corridor I go, I need to work fast, I take the bottle of HCl from my bag and spread into on the patch of blood that has now dried, I watch as the acid lifts it away from the surface, I wipe it with a cloth and then I move. My feet take me to the end of the corridor, I slip out into the cover of the night, creeping back into the comfort of the shadows. I take the blade out of my pocket, lay it on the ground, pour over some acid using the same cloth wipe it clean before pocketing it again. Ill burn the cloth later.

I make it up to floor 3 as lift doors open, blood lines the floor, screams break out and chaos descends. I stand back out of the way. I love just watching as the panic stricken faces realise there's nothing they can do.

I take the Id badge from my pocket and hold it in my hand, 'Clifford George'. It was time to leave, my excitement for the day was over. I pushed open the door to the stairs glancing back one more time the lifeless blood covered body.

The fire exit is my route of escape, the door pushes open and I slink out into the dusk. I'll be back I'm sure of it. The nameless face remains a mystery of the night.