This story takes place after my other story, Labyrinthine. You can probably follow this one without reading that one if you're incredibly go-with-the-flow. Otherwise you're going to be saying "WTF?" a lot. I had to jump forward in time to make this story work, so you'll be reading in the past tense about a future date. Enjoy! -)

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I sit in my car and watch Mary Irwin enter the coffee shop. She is predictable as always: Today is Tuesday morning and Mary has just dropped the kids at school before coming in for her morning cup of dark roast, to which she will add nonfat milk and a package of splenda. She will sit and drink her coffee for about twenty minutes and after she will head immediately home to exercise and shower before her regular Tuesday luncheon with her friends. I've watched her for weeks and her routine on Tuesdays does not waiver. It is also the day her live-in maid does the grocery shopping, leaving the house at precisely 9:00am, giving me ample time to do what I have planned.

As Mary steps to the counter, I start the car and my heart rate picks up. I am getting excited now. After weeks of watching and planning, it is finally time to act. I get in my car and drive the short distance to the park that borders the back of her property. I grab my backpack from the car and swing it on my shoulders, then take off at a jog, nodding at the other runners on the trail. After a quarter mile, I stop and stretch, waiting for the trail to be clear of foot traffic, then quickly slip into the trees. Two hundred yards uphill is the back fence to Mary's house. When I reach it, I open my backpack and pull on my jumpsuit, gloves and mask. They are not necessary since Mary will not live to identify me, but I believe in precaution and making sure I leave not a drop of my sweat behind.

I am breathing heavy, not from exertion, but from excitement. It's been too long since I've done this. I thought I could stop, but it's just not possible. Mary was mine from the moment I saw her picture on the internet.

I jump and grab the top of her fence, easily pulling myself up and over, and drop quietly to the ground, concealed by a large hedge. My timing is perfect, as I knew it would be. The maid is just getting in the car to leave for grocery shopping. Mary will be home in a little less than five minutes, at which point I will already be in the house. I make my way along the hedgeline until neither neighbor has a line of sight on me from their upstairs windows, then quickly walk to the back kitchen door. Using my elbow, I break the glass, reach in and turn the deadbolt, letting myself in the house. I quickly walk to the alarm panel and disarm it using the code I've seen Mary use so many times before. Then I turn the alarm on again, so Mary doesn't suspect anything when she comes in the front door.

My excitement has grown to the point that I feel I need to put my body in motion to temper it, but not yet. I take deep breaths and head upstairs to the closet in Mary's exercise room. As I'm closing the closet door, I hear Mary open the front door downstairs. Only moments to go.

I place the covers over my shoes. I check my back pocket for the syringe and the knife, grip my taser in one hand and sling the roll of duct tape around my other wrist, then wait. It takes Mary ten minutes before she enters the exercise room and I am out of the closet and on her, quickly stunning her with the taser. She falls to the ground and stares at me, moaning and frightened, but I have the duct tape over her mouth before she can make a loud sound. Next I pull out the syringe and plunge it her upper arm. Here is the only questionable part about my plan. I want Mary subdued, but awake. I want her alive long enough to know this is her end. I hold the knife to her neck to keep her quiet, wait for a few minutes and realize my calculations have been correct, based on her weight. Her eyes are fixed on me, but she can't move, and she's still breathing. Perfect.

I hold my finger to my mouth and wave my knife at her, warning her to be quiet, which is unnecessary, but makes me feel good. I slice open the front of her t-shirt and then her sports bra with my knife. I run one gloved finger down the center of her chest. Mary's eyes go from scared to complete panic. This is the point where they always seem to cry, where the fear of rape overrides the fear of death. At least that's what I think.

Mary, Mary, I'm not here to rape you. At least not really. You just have something you never should have had. I am here to take it away.

Of course, I don't say this out loud, but sometimes I like to think they can understand me.

Now comes the important part; I need symmetry. I center my finger over Mary's chest, right at the edge of her sternum and make two small puncture wounds with my knife, one on each side of my finger. Her eyes widen as I do this, and she tries to lift her arms towards me, but they are too heavy for her to move effectively. I remove my finger and sit up straight. I look Mary straight in the eye and shake my head. Her tears are falling freely now. I jam the knife quickly into one of the puncture wound I made, then lift the knife and jam it into the other.

Mary is still alive and it is time to end her before I can finish my job. She's seen enough; the rest is mine to enjoy in private. I carefully press the knife to Mary's neck and slice her artery and wait for the unconsciousness that will precede her quick death. Then my real fun begins.

Thirty minutes later I retrieve a plastic bag from my backpack. I place the knife and taser in first. I leave the syringe and the duct tape; I never use the same roll twice. I stand over Mary's body while I remove my mask, jumpsuit, gloves and shoe covers and shove the items in the plastic bag, then tie it and place the items back in my backpack. I sling the backpack on my back and grab a cloth from the pocket of my shorts. I walk downstairs and head to the back kitchen door. I use the cloth to press the "arm" button on the alarm. Then I use it to open the back kitchen door.

I am back in the hedge, over the fence, through the woods and back on the trail in minutes. A quick jog brings me back to my car. By the time the maid returns from the grocery store, I will be miles away. I smile at myself in the rearview mirror.