Night Time Serenity

Marvin was a killer, plain and simple. He was not a ghoul, a zombie, or even a vampire, though he came alive at night. Nor was he an invading alien creature of a thousand shapes with an elongated head, or extended arms and legs protruding from a massive gelatinous body and no name.

He stood in the darkened kitchen and stared through the window at another darkened house on the other side of the backyard fence. He took deep, slow breaths to calm his still-racing heart, a technique he'd learned at a positive thinking success seminar. Although he felt good about himself, he needed to relax and prepare for one last chore to finish his night's work. A good night's sleep with his compulsion sated would be well earned.

Behind him, a set of expertly crafted, German steel utensils protruded from the knife block on the marble countertop. The bloodied carving knife in his hands belonged to its one empty slot. Droplets slid off the

blade tip and pooled at his feet. Their dotted trail led along the floor, through the kitchen door, down the hall, and up the stairs to the bedrooms. They reminded him of Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs though he, rather than his victims, was leaving the trail.

The family was in a better place he thought. The world was getting far too violent. But he was not an animal. He had compassion and saw to it they did not suffer; their slit throats ensured silencing a scream that might awaken the others.

His throat felt parched, and his body ached. Marvin grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. The can sprayed him when he opened it, and he cursed himself for being such a slob. The light illuminated his blood splattered face and the maniacal glassiness of his eyes, though the deep-almond refrigerator door hid his reflection.

After wiping his latex-gloved hands on his bloodied clothes, Marvin turned back to the window. Several potted violets lined the sill, with their shallow purple flowers defying the night. He shared their kinship in

defiance. Nothing could stop them from growing, though, they hungered for life while he hungered for death. He made a mental note to go to the garden nursery that weekend and pick some up for his own kitchen.

Marvin felt gratified with how stealthy he had become. His victims would certainly appreciate how seriously he took his work if they saw him in the shadows, observing their every move while they sat home alone on dateless nights, or unwound with wine and a good book after a long day, or while they enjoyed alone-time with a hot bath and good-night's sleep.

He never hurried a kill and capitalized on the little idiosyncrasies every house or apartment had, its noises and bumps in the night, the creaking floors and window taps. When he was younger, he recalled feeling the same fear that something in the shadows watched and waited to devour him if he ever weakened his resolve.

Once he accepted the fear as his friend, Marvin let it strengthen him and heighten his awareness. He

learned to listen to the voice of his inner child, and when it gave him its approval, he knew it was time to act on his desires.

Marvin made patience a virtue, and bided his time, always enjoying the thrill of the hunt when his footsteps echoed on a darkened street. His potential victim would stop and look around, or call out a fearful, "Who's there," before picking up the pace or breaking into a run toward the perceived safety of their car or home.

Giving them a reprieve provided him with an appreciation for what it felt like to do a good deed. He already knew where they were parked or lived. Yes, he was a monster, dangerous and ready to strike at any moment.

~~OOO~~

Across the yard, another house stood dark. He had watched the couple living there for quite some time, and learned as much as he could about their habits. Knowledge reduced the possibility of mistakes.

Marvin took one last deep breath and let himself out the back door. After vaulting the fence into the young couple's yard, he quietly jimmied the door-lock. Once inside, the anticipation of his beating heart pounded in his ears. He stepped lightly down the hall and peeked into the bedroom. He gauged the depth of their sleep by the serenading rise and fall of their chests. Marvin crept through the darkness toward the couple. After deciding which one slept the hardest, he lowered the blade toward the other's throat.