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She was beautiful.
Jumping from shadow to shadow. Hidden in the dark. Invisible.
She was perfect.
The dark, gray clouds opened up, and the moonlight spilled onto the ground, illuminating the bay. The waves, roaring, crashing onto the rock island. The shore, empty.
Her laughter haunted him.
He stood up and walked to the dock. It was deserted. As he pushed the small red button on his belt, his figure soon melted away. Molecule after molecule, atom after atom, his legs, arms, shoulders, and finally his face, blended in with the night sky.
Three or so young men, all huddled together in the shadow of a withered tree, said nothing as they watched it happen. Although surprising to see a human being disappear before their very eyes, the homeless were not in a place to interfere. Many times at night they would see a person gaze at that Tower. That peculiar T-shaped tower. Many times someone would attempt to sneak into the building, and they seldom succeeded. It was nothing new.
She was intoxicating.
On the roof of the T-shaped tower, he reappeared again, shapes forming a body. When he could finally see his whole person, he slipped out a small, metallic object. To a pedestrian, this could have looked like a tube of lipstick. However, when he shook it, a red beam shot out through the top. Aiming the beam at the steel floor, he carefully cut open the shape of a square, just big enough to let him slip through. Trying not to touch the steaming edges, the thief silently slipped through the space.
He was in the Tower.
As the window opened, the soft white curtains danced with the whistling wind. In the dark, only two black, masked eyes could be seen. As he walked further into the room, his whole body emerged from the shadow. His two menacing eyes landed to the right of him: The bed.
He could hear her shallow breathing, her chest rising and falling. Her feet rested on her big violet pillow, while her head lay near the foot of the bed. A peculiar way of sleeping, no doubt.
But it was beautiful.
Her fiery red hair spread onto the bedsheets, the tips dangling over the edge. He knew that she had large emerald eyes under her currently closed eyelids. He had seen them up close the first day he met her.
Extending a gloved hand, he carefully reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face. She smiled in her sleep. His grin widened. He extended his other arm slowly and cupped the side of her face, his other hand holding the back of her head. Her mouth opened slightly. His long fingers stroked her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. She moaned silently.
His face, once smiling cunningly, took an expression of surprise. Her eyes had opened. She looked at him for a minute, not saying anything. Just staring. He let go of her head.
And then she screamed.