You can run but you can't hide.

There stood a slim, lone figure in the midst of the forest. His dark silhouette covered the withered leaves and dying plants. His hair as dark as charcoal, his cold eyes as brown as the bark of a tree, his thin and pale pink lips were formed in a firm straight line. He wore black faded jeans that seemed to have been the only pair he owned, his once sparkling white shirt was now covered in grime and splattered blood, if we looked further down we could see that he had on brown shabby shoes that were obviously worn countless times to the point were they couldn't even be classified as shoes at all. He had on a thick, leather black belt with 2 types of guns set firmly onto each side conveniently, these were the only items in which clung onto his body that were expensive looking. This figure appeared to take great care in the types of weapons he used rather than his attire and hygiene. Seconds soon turned into minutes as he stood still, almost too still. He looked straight ahead not once blinking or twitching his finger in the slightest bit. He clutched a razor sharp knife, the keen tip dripping in fresh blood- the blood from his most recent prey.

He looked on and on as if searching for something but that something cannot be identified just yet. He looked among the vast trees and tall trunks trying not to divert his eyes in any other direction but that one. His beady eyes finally focused on a small cottage towards the borderline of the forest, the bright yellow colour streaming out of each window being the only source of light illuminating it's surroundings. You could see various dark figures inside moving about and laughing happily as if they held no care in the world, with this thought the disheveled figure clutched the knife tighter in his palm unaware of the fact that he was holding the knife too close to the blade but before he had time to react the sharp tip had already pierced through his rough skin creating a deep gash. He hissed in agony as a dull pain shot through his arm, the figure dropped the knife to the floor and ripped a piece of his white shirt. The white fabric was tied tightly around his palm in an attempt to stop the gushing of red blood further escape his body; the searing pain that was fabricated from the wound was evident in his facial features as he scrunched up his forehead and gritted his teeth as the throbbing sting did not cease.

He clenched his jaw and made his way to the cottage, the knife had long been forgotten and his injured hand was ignored with a determined look on his face he arrived at the front porch of the house, the lights had been switched off for a while now so he guessed they were all asleep. Many memories flooded his mind but he pushed them all to the back of his head, he didn't have time for trip back through the memory lane especially when they all involved HER. He had done so many horrible things that he wished he could take back but he couldn't stop now, he had come so far and until he accomplished what he wanted there was no going back. He shook his head in exasperation and braced himself; he pulled out a bobby pin from the top pocket of his trousers and picked the lock with immense ease, he had become so good at it that for him it didn't require much concentration. He breathed in a gulp of air as the door creaked open the sound echoing through the whole house, he winced thinking it had alerted the people inside of his presence. The figure stood in his tracks and waited for someone to come down the stairs with a baseball bat and knock him out cold, but they didn't. He didn't hear a sound of footsteps approaching nor did he hear the light breathing of another being except the low rhythmic hum of the crickets outside, he sighed in relief that calmed down the pounding of his heart in the slightest bit.

He had been in this house so many times that he didn't have to even think about where he was going, he made a beeline to her bedroom only to find that she wasn't in there. A surge of panic ran through his veins and his face turned ashen, he couldn't let this happen- no he wouldn't. He checked every room only to find that all of them were empty his eyes widened as realization dawned on him, he under estimated the young lass considerably. She knew someone was coming after her so she alerted her family, th e smiling and laughing was only a mere act to rile him up but what the lass didn't know was who was coming after her. The slaughterer laughed bitterly, she didn't know that it was the person she least expected. With that thought he pivoted on his heel and stalked his way back into the woods but not before he picked up a photo frame of her and him together, he closed his eyes as if it pained him to take sight of such a beautiful image. His grip tightened around the frame, this photo mustered up so much anger and brought back so many harrowing reminiscences with in him that he hadn't comprehended the fact that he smashed the fragile frame onto the wall, watching mindlessly as it shattered into millions of pieces. As he ventured through the forest back to where he stood previously, his mind kept racing as various thoughts penetrated through. He was so lost in thought that he was unaware of the pounding footsteps making there way towards him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She ran. She didn't know from what exactly. She didn't know from whom. She didn't know how long. She just ran. Her sneakers prodded against the forest floor, compressing the dried leaves beneath. Shadows crafted in all types of haunting creatures swallowed her in darkness as she ran for her life. She knew someone was after her and she felt a burning gaze bore into her back through the kitchen window. Someone was watching her. She needed to get her family out of that house as soon as possible, she didn't want to risk their lives at her own expense. No she could not let that happen. She heard of the countless brutal murders this unknown man had committed through the news reports shown on TV and she has no doubt that she was the ruthless killer's next victim, the signs were all there but what she didn't know was why. Why was she the next one? What had she done to deserve this? She knew that she had made countless mistakes but hadn't every being? Were the mistakes she made really that sinful for her to be entitled to such a horrible fate? She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what to do. She continued running through the deathly quiet forest, the branches clawing at her arms and scraping her knees. Smudges of dirt covered her head to toe but she did not care, she needed to get as far away from this horrendous killer as possible.

Her heart hammered in her chest making it difficult to think and the sight before her blurred as silent tears cascaded down her cheeks. She needed Kyle right now he would help her, he always did. Kyle was one of the few people she trusted, they had a ghastly past together but over time they began to mend their relationship and eventually forgot about the past instead focusing on the future. Well she did at least but what she didn't know was that Kyle hadn't, not at all. He dwelled on the past occasionally, whilst they kept forgetting he just kept remembering but that was something left unknown. She didn't see where she was going but she could make out a figure in the distance. She ran to the figure as fast as she could, she needed to ask for directions. She needed to get out of here but what was this person doing in the middle of the night in the forest? She dismissed the thought immediately; she didn't care why this person was here she just needed help.

When she was a step away from reaching him he turned around making her jump in shock. Her eyes widened as she eyed the cold gun that was pressed against her forehead, she shook in fear not able to control herself. "Well, well, well look who we have here." She didn't meet the man's eyes but she could recognize that deep voice anywhere. "Oh, sweet little innocent Jessica has finally come out to play. Running won't get you anywhere I've learnt that from experience." He sneered.

She couldn't believe it, this must be some sick joke but no, her mind told her something else; something that she wishes wasn't true. She had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, he couldn't be. The one she turned to for advice, the one she confided in when her worries about the killer coming after her arose, the one she thought that wasn't the murderer indeed was. She finally looked up disbelief clouding her features, their eyes locked and forming into slits. It was him, she finally figured it out.

It was Kyle.