I crouch in shaded silence watching, waiting for the right moment. She saunters towards me on the narrow, dappled forest path, carelessly kicking golden autumn leaves. When the sun penetrates the leaf canopy sufficiently to reach, her loose blonde hair gleams angelically.
When she is almost level with my hiding place, she stops and looks upwards, neck arched, relaxed, probably listening to the song of a bird whose name I will never know. It’s cool, but I’m sweaty, and I pant as I stare at her, my mouth open. I brace myself.
Her head straightens quickly. She scans around carefully and her gaze passes right over my head. I stop breathing and remain utterly immobile. She strides on and past me, so closely that I can smell her. I stalk. This is the second-best part, when they don’t know I’m pursuing. I can feel my sheath strapped tightly against my calf, it’s merciless treasure awaiting my firm, skilful grip.
A hint of wind flutters her little hippy skirt. It’s just like the one tiny Sophie had when I started. Maybe that’s why I’m after this one. I remember Sophie in bed, flu, a golden halo of hair round her pillow, my hand on her brow. So flushed and helpless, I can’t help myself. Something primeval, primitive, drives me against my will. I know it’s wrong but I just have do it. I throw the covers back and my hands are on her.
Her mouth opens to scream and I clamp it shut. She kicks madly and something crashes to the floor. There’s a roaring in my ears, my body full of adrenaline and desperation. The door flies open. Her daddy's peasant face is shouting but I hear no sound. I shove him, hard. A red pool grows under his head, a yellow one between his legs. I know he’s dead. He’s nobody. I turn back to Sophie.
Now this one in the woods is humming. That should cover my approach nicely. The bitches. If they just did what they were told this wouldn’t happen to them. They made me like this. Them and nature. Grow your hair long to attract the men like flies to shit. You’ve attracted me, girlie, so you get me.
A hand in the hair, a hard tug and she’d be down, just like the last one went down, with me kneeling on her wrists, stiletto in hand. The first one after Sophie I tried to scare with the knife but she screamed. I had to kill her first. Spoilt my fun. Ether's no good. I need them to see their master while they’re enslaved. The stupid law makes me kill them afterwards. Prison isn’t for the godlike ones like me, the doctors. We control life and death every day.
Close enough now. She’s singing and running her raised hands through the leaves as she ambles.
It’s time.
(482 words)
