Chapter 29

Carl had been watching a woman for a couple of weeks. He had first spotted her in the supermarket and had looked at the items in her trolley. There were ready made meals for one and some fruit, alongside a couple of cleaning products. She hadn't scrimped on the wine though, there were four bottles amongst the other goods. This shopping trip had identified a single woman and that had aroused his interest.

The subject was a woman who was about forty years old. Her face was lined and she had only occasional flickers of a dim light on her. This was an important factor in her selection for his attention. There would not be an obstacle when it came to do what he was planning.

Carl had followed the woman, first, to her car and then he had tailed her as she drove home. Over the next few days he observed the house at various times and there were no other residents, he was sure. A single woman, living alone was his ideal prey.

The front door and its lock were inspected when he posted a leaflet through her letter box. She might have a bolt or a chain on the other side, but it would not stop him from getting into the house. Once the demon took hold a flimsy door would be dispensed with easily. Sunday evening, when the street was quiet because people were at home, would be a good time to visit.

Carl had done this a few times now, and on each occasion the thrill was amazing. The ritual that he followed, as he prepared, heightened the excitement. Dark clothes, to keep him hidden from prying eyes. Driving to the area, but parking a few streets away. The walk, during which he would imagine the kill. The sight of the house and reaching the front door.

As he arrived, Carl felt the change begin. The demon knew that it was about to get what it craved. With the change came strength. Putting his shoulder to the door, it gave way with little resistance. A short, sharp crack as the lock was forced, before slipping into the hallway. A moment to listen, but she had not stirred.

The beast climbed the stairs, his claws tapping on the hand rail as he ascended. There was an urge to let loose a howl, but he must remain quiet. His jutting jaw and pointed teeth were moved into an approximation of a smile. The bedroom door was opened and there lay the woman. Undisturbed, dreaming, relaxed, unaware.

The scent of the woman was caught using his heightened sense of smell. Cheap wine, moisturiser, sweat. The room was as he had imagined, a vase of fake flowers, a pile of clothes on a chair, and a, floral, patterned quilt on the bed. Standing right over her, Carl reached towards the sleeping figure. He could finish her off now, but what fun was that? Thrusting his claws into her arm, she awoke with a squeal.

Watching as the woman sat upright, grasping her bleeding arm, and then turning to look at him, made Carl grin. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she started to scream. Desperate to get away from her attacker, she fell off of the bed and then shrank against the wall. There was no escape though.

The screeching was getting on Carl's nerves. Time to make her shut up. Some of his victims were stunned into silence, but not this woman. The ones that cried and begged were the best. To eke out the terror a bit more, small, deliberate steps took him slowly towards her. By now she must know that she was going to die. She finally went quiet when he was breathing down on her as she cowered on the floor.

"What are you?" she asked in a whisper.

"Death" Carl whispered back before he slashed her throat.

The blood sprayed from the wound and Carl took a moment to watch the woman die. The last breath, the slump of the body as the tension dissipated and the sorry shell which was left behind, were all like a drug to him. Eyes darting around, every part of the scene was committed to memory. The demon was sated and it shared its joy with Carl.

Reluctantly he turned away and made his way back through the house. It was two O'clock in the morning and a look out of the woman's window confirmed that no one had stirred on the street. She had really let rip with the screaming and he had expected lights to be on in some of the houses in the cul-de-sac. No one was about, no one cared and he would get away unseen again.

When he left the house his hat and scarf were back on to hide his features. The transition from beast to man would take a few minutes. The demon receded and took the euphoria with it. It had been another electrifying experience and well worth the risk. Picking up his speed, he was now setting a brisk pace on the way back to his car. Shivering a bit, the cold intruded now that his mission was accomplished.

In the car, a country music station was selected on the radio. Calm and content, Carl sang along with the tunes he knew. The bloody clothes would have to be burned in the morning, but first a good night's sleep.

~~~

Angie didn't turn up for work the next day. Her boss, Joanne, tried calling, but got no reply. When Angie didn't turn up again, the day after that, Joanne was beginning to get a bit worried. Time to visit and check she was okay. The car was on the drive. The front door looked broken. Knocking on it brought no response. Pushing it open, her voice quaking as she called out.

"Angie, Its Jo. Anybody home?"

No response. Moving through the house and then up the stairs, finally arriving at the bedroom door. A deep breath, turn the handle and then a sight that made her legs give way under her. Scrambling back out onto the hallway, it took a moment before she could get back to her feet.

The smell, the blood, everything she had seen in those few seconds would stay with her forever. It was like a horror movie, only real. With shaking hands, the phone was found in her bag and the call made.

"Police. I need the police. There's been a terrible murder."

The patient call handler teased the rest of the information from the frantic woman. The police arrived to find an ashen woman sat on the doorstep of the house to which they had been called.

"Upstairs, front bedroom" was all Angie's manager could manage to say.

The officers had a quick look before calling the station and requesting support.

"Yes, it looks just like the other ones. Her throats been slashed."