Humble Beginnings
Prologue
The sun slowly surrendered itself to the familiar confines of peaceful, repetitious oblivion beneath a light, cherry colored sky, as the delicate traces of night began to hungrily consume it. Dark green leaves whistled blindly atop the tall trees that casually surrounded the quaint, two-story house with beige shutters, a particularly faint breeze carefully weaving its way around their woefully imposing silhouettes. The front yard was meticulously riddled with bright, yellow tulips, watchfully guarded by a rather small and circular white fence, their unmistakably frail stems swaying ever so slightly within the rich soil they comfortably inhabited. There was a diminutive plastic statue composed of resin sitting in silence upon the front porch, eerily projecting the portrait of a young girl clad in old-fashioned attire, and subjecting the otherwise cheerful property to an untold story of remorse and long forgotten childhood memories. A single bulb illuminated a vigorous glow behind striped curtains that had been drawn to protect the frail elderly resident who remained inside, shielding her activities from a world that was currently being lulled into a much needed sleep.
The rangy figure was clothed entirely in black and approached with caution, quietly savoring the unwavering innocence of the neighborhood with an aberrant fascination, a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes patiently closing in on the intended target. An undisclosed smile fondly crept across a rough visage that was well hidden by a reasonably cheap Halloween mask dutifully purchased from a local store on the corner- the unsuspecting store clerk entirely distracted regarding the incentive. The steps were soft and calculated against the worn pavement, both hands covered in tight, blue latex gloves, while long fingers spent each waking minute curling themselves in and out of rigid fists. A sharp knife was nonchalantly withdrawn from the back pocket of a pair of tattered blue jeans, promptly placing itself within view to properly capture an almost remarkable allure, the surprisingly savage grip turning calloused knuckles blood red beneath the taut gloves. Worn, brown boots came to a perfectly even halt right outside the back door, which clung rather loosely to the old, weatherbeaten frame that accompanied it, the thin screen scattered with tiny holes.
It was slightly ajar and allowed easy access into the arduously decorated home, the petite owner snugly curled up on a sofa in front of a modestly financed television set, her attention drawn to a syndicated game show that in all probability hadn't seen the light of day in at least ten years. The volume had been raised to a level that made it nearly impossible to distinguish the noise around her, as she reached over and calmly grabbed a glass of wine off the coffee table, entirely oblivious to the stranger who had just invaded her personal space with an agenda she undoubtedly wasn't acquainted with. A worn remote and a rectangular box of tissues had been neatly arranged on the far side of the pristine oval surface, a bowl of individually wrapped assorted candy positioned directly in the middle, whilst a short, scented vanilla candle continued to burn bright on the kitchen's sleek marble countertop. She professed an amused chuckle at a contestant's clever quip, clapping loudly as she cheered him on, her white curls bouncing haphazardly on top of her head. Her blue eyes sparkled with renewed enthusiasm, while she delicately propped her feet up beside her and shifted her weight, her pink slippers tacitly cascading to the floor.
She didn't even scream when the knife plunged deep into her back, her lifeless body slumping forward onto the soaked piece of furniture, drops of red indifferently staining the plush blue carpet as they dripped slowly and painfully from the open wound. The intruder paused for just a moment, taking an immense amount of pleasure in the horrifyingly emotionless act, as the weapon was easily discarded and tossed dispassionately to the ground. A handful of beautiful yellow tulips that had been freshly chosen and picked from the spotless, amicable front yard, and sat comfortably in a glass vase next to the candle, were now prudently being extracted one by one in a very deliberate process. The coffee table was hastily cleared of all the commonplace objects that had once claimed refuge upon it, and the flowers were mindfully arranged to resemble a perfectly shaped hollow heart. The sweet vanilla scent in all it's glorifying embers, was placed in the very center, the flame refusing to suffer the same fate as the innocent woman who had just perished by someone else's provident and violent means. The persistent ticking of the clock above the television, was a friendly reminder that a deadline had been successfully achieved and met.
The game show had finally concluded it's brand of irrelevant entertainment, and the credits were rolling to signify a predictable and greatly needed end, very much like the tragic one the female victim had bought and succumbed to against her will. The mask the attacker had aptly used to shield an identity, was effortlessly removed and set loosely over the polished gold knocker in the front entryway, the vacant eye sockets and mouth conveying whispered words of sorrow to an occupant who could no longer hear them. It was as if the orderly establishment had suddenly been plagued by a haunting presence that would forever be consumed by the anguish that had grievously imprinted itself in every crevice imaginable, tainting a once cherished sanctuary. The single, solitary photo that cluttered the mantel was cautiously removed from the sturdy wooden border that protected it, and securely cradled in a steady grasp, where it was eventually pocketed in an unkempt navy jacket. A jaunty tune began it's flawless journey through a pair of chapped lips that curled into a sinister and lonely grin, the front door slamming shut in the wake of a killer.