Ok, here's part two. Sorry I ended the last chapter so abruptly; I wasn't sure how to really end it…and the fact that this chapter is supper short. I'm trying to get chapter up as soon as possible because I have a deadline on the completed work. It has to be submitted as one chapter by Aug. 30th to be accepted, and I want reviews on each part as I go so I can have the best story possible and WIN THE CONTEST!

Previous Night

Darkness. It surrounded him physically and emotionally. All that embraced his entire being at that precise moment was darkness. How many times would he do this to himself, he wondered as he wandered the streets in a part of the US Capital city that he had absolutely no business setting foot in.

He could not control it.

He tried to forget the first time he had killed a man with his bare hands. But he couldn't forget it. He couldn't forget the horrifying fact that, despite the desperate situation he had been in at the time, despite the terror, despite all else, it had actually felt good. He had been just angry enough that he enjoyed the necessary kill. It had taken killing in what was truly cold blood for him to realize that he would never forget that haunting fact. The second time, he realized that he could not get rid of it. But the third time…the third time he killed in cold blood was when he accepted what he had become, accepted what his pent up anger had turned him in to. The time after that, the fourth time, he wasn't merely walking to clear his mind, he was searching for another outlet for his anger, another poor helpless soul to use to free himself, if only for a short while.

He was hunting.

That was just last night. Yet here he was again, on the streets occupied by the homeless and the desperate. His anger was still too much to manage. He needed another one. Another outlet. Another tool.

Another victim.

"What's a high time hot shot like you doing in a place like this?" he heard the sarcastic voice behind him.

The killer turned around to see a skinny African-American female. Hot shot? He fucking hated himself for what he was and this bitch thought he was some hot shot?

The woman cocked her head. "Looking for a good time?" The woman approached the man who was growing more enraged every second. "Need to blow off so steam, Mr. Grumpy Face?"

"Blow off some steam," the killer growled as he slowly removed his tie. A look of terror spread across the woman's face as she realized what this man must be. She did not have time enough to scream before the stone-faced killer twisted the tie around her slender neck and drug her into the darkest corner of the ally.