The moment he first saw him, it must have been fate, he decided. From that moment on, he was completely obsessed. The man in black moved like a ghostly shadow, his dark complexion and clothing obscuring his muscular form in the darkness. He stalked and crouched with all the mannerisms of a lethal panther.
But the real excitement came when he found his prey. His gun was drawn, but not a single shot rang out in the night. It wasn't necessary. The hunted man cowered back like he was face to face with the devil himself. The look of such raw fear was intoxicating.
He wanted to feel something watching the man in black that night; like respect or even a sense of admiration. Because he was a work of art, strategic and athletic perfection. But the only feelings that he could muster were jealousy and sheer hatred. In a matter of seconds without even so much as an introduction, the man in black became his sworn enemy.
The world was cruel to the weak. He'd learned this terrible truth early on in life. The bullies in school had tortured him mercilessly for years, and friendships had been difficult to cultivate. As the years progressed, he grew dark and calloused and malicious. He knew he'd never be physically strong enough to overcome his tormentors, so he turned his attentions to forms of psychological revenge.
He exploited their worst fears and made them feel small and terrified. The same way he'd always felt as the bullies stalked towards him, their eyes dark with cruel intent. After his first few successes, he decided the destruction of someone's peace of mind was almost as exhilarating as the physical release of a hand-to-hand fist fight. And much easier to maintain control of.
Best of all, if he executed his plans with enough forethought and precision, his identity would remain a secret. It was convenient in avoiding any forms of retaliation. No one knew who was behind the strange and terrifying occurrences at the high school. There were a few rumored guesses, but nobody ever suspected the pale, scrawny kid who'd always been the weakling of the pack. A wicked grin spread across his face as he realized the man in black wasn't the only one who moved in shadow.
He watched him as he cuffed his target and shoved him forcefully toward the street. A dark vehicle pulled up several minutes later and the two men disappeared like shadows in the night.
It was almost a year later before he had a name to put with that face. Some lowlifes living in the darkness and shadows of Trenton referred to him as El Diablo, the devil. But the vast majority knew him by his street name, Ranger. Hardened criminals whispered it with reverence and dread. And he knew he'd found his man.
Thus began the start of his research. It was a challenge to be sure. While Ranger had moved like a shadow in the darkness, he also appeared a ghost on paper. A vacant lot was listed as his current address, and any background searches were either full of holes or oddly ambiguous. So he waited. The challenge only inspired a stronger resolve to succeed.
He pieced together a notebook with the facts he'd come across as he tried to identify the ultimate weakness for his nemesis. The findings were frustrating. This man was obviously well outside the range of average…or even normal. Bankrupting him seemed futile; he was clearly business minded, not to mention clever. His assets were well diversified. He also seemed to have an unidentifiable monetary source that remained impervious to a number of hacking attempts. No, he decided, monetary revenge would not be useful against this Ranger.
The research continued into the realm of family and friends. There were people he cared for, people he trusted, but no one who would reduce him to a cowering fool. He was a lone wolf in every sense of the term. No attachments, no relationships.
There was a brief terrifying moment when he wondered if Ranger suspected him; if he knew he was being watched from the shadows. Perhaps he was in fact the one being stalked. But then something changed. A bizarre stroke of luck. The man in black started completing takedown jobs with a sidekick.
He paid her little attention at first. Well, when he could anyway. She always seemed to be landing herself in some new mess. Her cars had an average shelf life of about twenty-four hours, and she repeatedly uncovered secrets and mysteries that were often hazardous to her health. She kept him entertained sometimes, and he was convinced she kept Ranger distracted enough to ignore the possibility of his existence. She was crazy and perfect.
However, on future reflection, he realized he had perhaps been too focused on studying Ranger to notice the real situation unfolding right in front of him. Then the imposter appeared on the scene. News stories broke with rumors of a kidnapping, the leading suspect none other than Ranger. It didn't take him long to put some mystery pieces together and figure out about the other man involved. If successful in his motives, this Scrogg fellow was going to put some serious kinks in his ultimate plan. It was unacceptable.
Before he was able to formulate his own plan to eliminate this new player, the situation was miraculously resolved. In a very unexpected way. Ranger had decided to comply with this madman's wishes. He confronted Scrogg alone, and from all appearances with the expectation of receiving bodily harm.
He'd puzzled with the question of why for days after the event. The answer was obviously connected to the two people held hostage during the confrontation. One was the crazy sidekick. The other was Ranger's daughter.
He initially toyed with a plan to kidnap the daughter assuming she was the obvious chink in the armor of his nemesis. But during his work on the plan, he had a sudden epiphany. The girl was significant; she was his flesh and blood. However, the two remained distant. She could be used to damage him. But the sidekick, he postulated, the sidekick could lead to his true undoing.
How had he never noticed before? He'd been blinded by his own obsession, and it had caused him to overlook the obvious. The evidence was all right there in plain sight. And he'd been an absolute fool to miss it! He fumed at the oversight, shredding pages from the notebook in an unbridled rage.
The next morning, his thoughts had cleared. The day was fresh with new possibilities, and he was ready to accept his shortcomings. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would interfere with the success of his ultimate plan.
He took a seat at his computer and started searching for a news article he remembered reading from a while back. He opened it with a terrifying grin and ran a finger over the face on the screen. "Bombshell Bounty Hunter, Stephanie Plum, Burns Down Local Funeral Home," it read.
"Hello, Ms. Plum," he crooned. "So very pleased to meet you."