Partners in Crime

3 am

Windows rolled down, radio blasting Green Day, and nothing but open highway ahead. "What a perfect way to spend 3 am on a Sunday," thought Caleb as he rushed down the 405.

Of course this wasn't the first time he'd done this. It was the ritual. Party all night Saturday, drink a couple beers and get his blood pumping in whatever new club he decided to visit.

Then come 3 am Sunday, hop in the car with a nice buzz and see if there are any hitchhikers out.

See, 3 am is the devil's hour. Perfect time for what Caleb was trying to do.

His stash of carving knives were packed away nice and neatly in the back seat of his new Chevy Silverado Pick Up. The rag doused in chloroform tucked away in his side door, perfect to access once needed.

Everything in his car was methodically placed. Each tool stored away in the back seat or trunk, the rag to his side his only form of immobilization.

Of course, that's how he liked it. The challenge of a feisty prey always made his blood rush and his heart beat furiously. Seeing the fight slowly drain out of his victims as they realize they've been trapped gave him a sense of euphoria like nothing else, filling the void of his soul.

Caleb dropped his speed from 60 to 40 as he saw a victim. Checking the time; 3:49, how perfect. Driving gave him time to clear his head and sharpen his senses that were previously dulled by the alcohol.

Hearing the car approach the hitchhiker turned around and stuck out his thumb, a desperate look crossing the young man's face.

Elated at this perfect victim, Caleb's face split into a crooked grin filled with menace only the 3 am devils could fill him with.

Pulling up next to the hitchhiker, Caleb took a closer look. The young man was complete opposite to him, dark skin opposed to his pale complexion, long black hair pulled into a man bun opposed to his short sandy blond waves.

The man was out of breath and shivering, obviously unprepared for the chill autumn in his t-shirt and jeans.

With practiced skill, Caleb put on the face of a worried civilian , eyebrows furrowed in concern. He unlocked the car, ready to set the trap.

"Hello little one, do you need a ride?"