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That those moans will serve as my theme song as I plunge my shining blade into the gut of another victim tonight.
I back out of the woods, careful to not make any noise. The last thing I need is for her to hear me, for her to know that I’m here, watching her. Checking up on her.
I walk along the edge of the tree line, my knife clutched in my grip as I head toward the crowd. I remain unseen, covered in black, as I walk up to a group of girls.
There’s one on my mind. One that I get to play with tonight.
Little Heather Nolander, daughter of Stevie Nolander. Stevie Nolander is the daughter of the detective who was working on the murder case last year. He was close to arresting Lakyn and the rest of them. His evidence was building, and he had piles of it, enough to put each of them away for a long time.
Until at once, it all disappeared. Into thin air, it was gone, and there was no longer a case.
It wasn’t an accident, and Stevie Nolander was at the front of this scheme.
He’s to blame. He deserves to be held accountable for his actions.
And I will deliver.
I slide my blade up and down my thigh, feeling the sharpness against my black jeans. The girls are giggling, drinks in hand, as they sit around the fire. A few guys have girls in their laps, and they snuggle close.
How boring it is to live an easy life.
I stand just beyond the tree line, hovering only feet from them, and my eyes stare at the back of Heather Nolander’s head, her straightened brown hair laying in a sheet down her slender back.
I stay there for minutes, watching them joke about things that are so meaningless, it could bore me to death.
Leaning against a tree, I fold my arms across my chest as boredom slams into me.
It feels like I wait forever, until I can’t take it anymore. Glancing at the ground, I find a thick, lone stick on the ground, and step directly in the center, listening as it cracks loudly.
The group freezes, and I stare at Heather as she turns around, eyes narrowed, eyeliner too thick as she glances into the woods.
I step on the same stick, allowing it to crack again.
“What is that?” one of the other girls asks.
“I don’t know,” Heather mumbles, squinting as she looks from left to right.
You’ll never find me, darling, but I’m certain I’ll find you.
I grab the other end of the stick, cracking this one in half.
“Someone’s in there!” one of the girls whines.
Heather raises her hand. “Hold on. I swear I see something,” she whispers.
You see nothing, but I see you.
“Heather,” one of the guys says, standing up. “Let me go.”
You fucking small-dicked asshole.
Heather shakes her hand, and a bright smile shines beneath my mask.
“I’ve got it, Tanner. Hold on.”
I’d laugh if it wouldn’t blow my cover. I’d absolutely fucking howl.
Heather ducks down as she steps into the woods, and a smile lifts my lips as I tilt my head to the side.
