A/N: Update Sunday! Hi guys, hope you have all had a lovely weekend, especially with the treat that was csi:ny on friday night. I can't wait for the season to kick première was brilliant, and hopefully just a taste of what to come! (Shameless plug time, but if you haven't seen, I posted a post-ep oneshot, if you wanted to check it out ;) It's called Peace Offerings.)

Now, with this chapter, I wasn't actually going to revisit a certain someone originally, but with the positive comments from the first chapter that I posted, it seems silly not to include him within this story. I'd like to note here that I am not a murderer and do not usually have murderous thoughts. Let's make that clear now. hahaha. We'll say I utilise my creative license well?

I really appreciate the continued support for this story... I know I have other stories that you guys are kind of waiting for updates on. I constantly have ideas whirling around in my mind, and make little notes on my phone but at the minute it's finding the time to write a chapter (I'm lucky I block wrote this story!) So I promise that you will get an update for my other stories eventually. I just don't really know when.

Huge thanks to those of you who took the time to review, Saderia, Izzi Creo, gigglesforcsi, smuffly, Sprog101, Dantana15, Montanagirl2009, Meggie, Alex Joleta.

Wheels up, I got to leave this evening, can't seem to shake these vultures off my trail. Power is made by pure manipulation; so I keep running to protect my situation.

-Vultures, John Mayer.

He'd learnt a valuable lesson tonight; he had learnt that screaming was music to his ears. The look on their faces when they realised what was happening was something he'd never forget. As luck would have it, the three giggling girls were sat there eating their blessed apple pies right when he had walked in. It was any wonder nosey bitch Lydia hadn't been sat right there with them. She hadn't left, but then again, he hadn't really been watching. He'd been watching the clock. Waiting for the time to come. And when it had, he took great joy in walking the short distance to the place he'd been staring at for hours.

Just like he planned, he moved quickly to both the front and the back of the car, removing the license plates with the aid of the headlights and taillights to help him. With the shovel in the trunk, he dug a shallow hole and dumped all of the shit in there. Goodbye stolen plates from a random car back in Detroit. Hello new plates from Texas. Even if they called up little bitch Lydia, and she happened to remember the plates, there's no way they'd get a link from Michigan to Texas. And good luck to them if they did manage it. Nope, it was going to be plain sailing from here, he thought as he stripped his bloodied t-shirt and dumped that in the shallow hole. If he had any luck, some raccoon or mountain lion or whatever else they had roaming the wilderness out here would come and carry his shit away. It'd do him a huge favour.

He sighed as he looked down to the dimly lit hole. He felt a little sad throwing the trophies of his accomplishment away. The memories however would stay in his mind. With each pull of the trigger, he'd felt the power surge through him. This was him. He was doing this. He was achieving something. He had put his name on something. This would ring in the air of this little town for years and years. Possibly even forever. He had left a legacy behind him, with destruction covering his footsteps. His unknown name would be a whisper every now and then. Maybe he'd even feature on a stupid, dumbass crime show… Unsolved Mysteries. He'd have to set up the VCR to record that, he thought to himself.

As he had driven away, he heard the sirens blaring from the only two police cars in the state, he mused… rushing to the little diner to find that actually… there was nothing left for them to do, other than call the morgue.

He shovelled the dirt into the shallow hole as he said goodbye to his successful mission. He tossed the shovel back into the trunk before slamming it shut. He stretched and enjoyed the pressure being released from his back. He'd been wearing a lot of stress the past few days. It actually felt a little like Christmas. All the stress and pressure, making sure everything was in order; the turkey, or in this case, bullets, were ready and raring to go. The hype of it. The excitement. The unknown. The elation when it finally arrived and then… nothing. It was done. All the fuss and the excitement for a mere moment's pleasure. He shook his head as he realised he was perhaps being slightly unfair. He would gain pleasure from this for a long time. Their screams and cries were still ringing in his ears. The pleading… well, from the last one he killed. The other three didn't really get much chance. But for the last one… he'd hesitated. He wanted her to know exactly what was happening… and boy she had. It was a shame really. She had been a pretty girl. But it was oh so satisfying when he watched her fly into the booth behind her. Extra points there, he'd thought.

Then afterwards as he walked around, he'd stood over them as they took their last breaths, if they hadn't already taken them. In the moment, he wondered when people would find out. In an hour when the girls didn't come home. Two hours? Three hours? Or maybe they wouldn't be found until the owner came to work with his paper and thermos of coffee from his mind numbingly stupid wife to find that the diner hadn't ever been locked. Then, all angry that his little employee had done a sloppy job, he'd walk in with all intentions of firing her to realise that she'd already been fired… fired at through the barrel of a shotgun.

However the girls were found… it was a job well done. Whoever would lay eyes on the bodies would be scarred for life. He'd made sure of that. The blood pools were impressive. Their positions were memorable and the sheer devastation it would cause? Well… ten points to him. It would be a traumatic life event to recover from. And if they ever did catch him, it would be interesting to hear from the witnesses. The first responders… the person that found them. What they had to say about it. If they were even still alive that was. It'd take a strong person to get through what he had just left… and good luck to them, he thought, because they would damn well need it.

He got back into the car and fired up the engine. He pressed his foot to the floor as he crossed the state line between Montana and Wyoming. See ya later, Montana. He thought to himself, as he looked to the darkness in the background. It's been real fun.

Short and definitely not sweet... but there we have it. hope you guys enjoyed the little insight into Daniel Katums. Thanks for reading!