The sole streetlight casts an eerie glare in the small park. I crouch down low, my eyes searching for my next target. Then, I spot her. She’s walking down the pathway, her long legs moving quickly. I move my gaze to her and look over the female. She’s tall and thin. Perfect. I inch towards her and wait for a moment. When she’s a safe distance away, I creep out from the bushes and start to follow her. Ever so quietly I start gaining on her. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I come closer and closer. I can almost hear her screams now, begging me not to hurt her, to spare her. It’s almost time. She’s nearing the darkest part of the walkway, and no one is near us. In a practiced move, I swiftly bring the knife around her neck.

“Don’t scream, or I slit you pretty little throat.” I whisper. I force her into the bushes and force her down on the ground. Now this is the part where most women start to cry and beg, pleading uselessly for me to let them go. But this woman, she swings her leg and catches me on the back of the knee. I grin as I catch her fist that moves towards my face.

“Ahh, a fighter.” I whisper, somewhat delighted. I haven’t had a fighter in quite a while, and frankly, it was getting kind of boring. She flails around, trying to scream. I have placed a gag in her mouth; I can’t have her screaming now. Someone might hear. I smack her hard in the face, enjoying the look of pain that flashes across her face. But she doesn’t give up, she keeps fighting. Hmmm. This is strange, never had one this feisty. Oh boy am I going to have fun with her.

She grabs at me and I take her arm, twisting it in my strong grip. She shudders and tries to cry out in pain as I hear the snap of her bone breaking. Smiling, I take my knife and gently cut the skin on her cheek, tracing her face with it. Blood seeps slowly from the wound. I take the hem of her shirt and inch it up, showing her belly. I take the knife and again puncture the skin. This time I go a bit deeper. I punch her face and then her stomach as she makes one last feeble attempt to grab me. She does, however, manage to grab some of my hair.

“Bitch” I snarl, slowly opening the buttons of her blouse. One by one they pop open. Suddenly, I hear voices. It’s two people, talking. Shit, I need to get out of here! I look around and pick up a rock. I smash it into her skull, rendering her unconscious. I then quickly stab her chest somewhere. She’ll be dead by the time they find her. I’m sure of it. I get up and dust off my clothes. I think I have just enough time to get home and get cleaned up and then come back here to see them find her.

Sure enough, when I get back, no one has found her. But a man and his dog are coming, and the dog pulls his master towards the bush. I hear the man utter a curse and then pull out his phone. Dialing 911 I suppose. Ten minutes later, paramedics and police arrive. They don’t know who she is; I stole her ID. As a paramedic takes a look at her, his face goes white.

“Dude, this is one of the CSI’s! ” he shouts, obviously panicked. He looks around and spots something. He says something to his friend and walks over to a handsome man who is observing. He tells the man something and the man rushes over to the woman. He talks to another paramedic and climbs into the ambulance with her. A CSI, hmm. That explains a lot.

I really want to see what will happen to her, and I want to learn more about this lady. It’s time to bring out Lauren. I quickly turn and head home to fetch her.

Sure enough, she’s waiting for me. I tell her to get up; I need to take her to the hospital. She nods and stands patiently while I ‘prepare her’. Lauren is my ‘diversion’. She is my trained monkey. It took a while to get her to obey me, to train her, but now she’s very good. She allows me to do whatever I like to her. Most men would get rid of her after they broke her. But I am not most me. I am smarter then those men. I am above them. I keep her. I can’t risk getting rid of her and training another chick. It takes to much time, and it’s so risky. So, for now, I will be content with Lauren. She’s great though. I mean, sometimes I just need to have a good excuse to go the hospital. Like now. I want to know about the one who got away.

I wonder how long it will take them to figure out it was me who attacked her. They know I am out there, that I am a dangerous man. In fact, they have even started ‘naming’ me. The papers have called me many things. “The midnight rapist” was one. “The street killer” was another. But I am not much of a fan of those. They are too blah. Too boring. Not to mention stupid. No, my favorite was most definitely “The Homicidal Maniac.” That one cracks me up.

I usher Lauren into the car, her arm hanging limply by her side. She doesn’t say a word as I pull out of our small home and speed towards the hospital. It would be nice to find out some more about this woman, before I kill her.