* 4:30a.m. *
He stood over the body of the woman he had just murdered. He had made his first kill again in over fifteen years. It felt so good; it felt so invigorating. Her body lay on the floor, blood still seeping out of from her wounds.
The smell of fresh blood hit his nose sending a tingle down his spine; it was intoxicating. His blood pressure was rising. He needed to kill again, but he must wait the time was not right.
He wanted to linger in the house a little longer, but knew he had to leave. The woman's boyfriend would be arriving soon, but before leaving he plucked out a black Masquerade mask from his coat pocket. He placed it gently over her face as to not disturb any of his work then quietly left. He was like a phantom in the night.
Before heading home he made a pit stop at one of his next victim's house when he noticed the bedroom light was on; it was 6:00a.m.
He watched her every move; her daily routine was simple. She'd wake up at six in the morning, and put on a pot of coffee for herself and her husband; they drank French Vanilla flavored coffee. After cleaning up her mess in the kitchen she would head back into her room and wake her husband with sweet soft kisses. He could see her husband loved when she did that every morning. After her sweet soft kisses they would hop in the shower and make love.
Upon hearing the garage door open to their house he knew it was time to leave. 'I must wait a little longer for her. She's not ready to be taken yet,' he said to himself and drove off to his place. His day job was about to start.