Chapter 10
He made it to the safety of his tiny studio apartment. He was wound up as tight as a drum. Panting and heaving, he paced the dirty, carpeted floor.
It had all gone wrong tonight. Horribly wrong.
He ran a hand through his short, greasy hair. Wanted to pull his hair out.
Curse words streamed through his head. He cursed himself. Wondered how he could have been so stupid? How?
Uninvited, his mother's wretched face appeared in his mind.
She yelled at him, "You curse like a drunken sailor! You stupid, worthless, no-good bum. You can't do anything right. You never could. Never."
His tortured mind screamed back, "Shut up! Shut the hell up."
God, how he hated her. He lunged for her neck. Wanted to squeeze the life out of her. Every drop of it.
But the image vanished and he was left clutching empty air. He gasped and sucked in a sharp breath. How could she anger so, even today? She'd been dead ten years, yet continued to torment him. She tormented him now as viciously as when she lived.
His hands balled into fists and pent-up rage electrified every nerve of his frazzled body. He felt like a caged animal. He was ready to pounce at the slightest movement.
Then he remembered … the necklace.
He'd lost the necklace. His souvenir. His one and only reminder of her … his victim.
It had slipped from his hand. A stupid, stupid mistake. A rookie mistake. He'd never made those kinds of mistakes before. Never. Not even in the beginning.
He plopped in a chair at the dining table and ran his hands down his face. He scrubbed at his eyes with his fists.
Why was this happening? Why? Why now? Things had gone smoothly for twenty years. But now …
He sucked in a lungful of air. He couldn't seem to get enough air. The apartment felt damp and close. Oppressive.
His eyes darted around the room. He was nervous and jumpy, full of adrenaline. He felt like a drug addict coming down from a high.
The need to hunt overwhelmed him. Saturated every fiber of his being.
He bolted out of the chair. He had to go. Had to hunt. Had to find someone and claim them as his.
He would prove his mother wrong. He would prove he could do something right.
Yes, he would prove himself. The night was still young. Opportunity waited …
A/N: 'Thank you' to the constant reviewers and new ones. Glad people are still enjoying the story. Sorry this chapter was short, but it's interesting to see what's going on with the killer. Right? Next chapter is longer. :)