Alright. It was late. And quiet. Far from the busy main roads. But the streetlamps were working fine. It was far from too dark to see. So, she should have seen him, right?
He was lost. Startled. Astonished. Even frightened. It was a good night. Sara was her usual pretty self. Of course, Sara wasn't her real name. Or maybe it was, he didn't know. And honestly, he didn't care. She was Sara to him. Did it matter more than that? She was walking back home. A long day at work. She liked those. Long days. Overtime must pay a lot. Her eyes were tired. She was rubbing them every few minutes. The shirt was more uncomfortable now than pretty. And the skirt joined hands with the wind, chilling her legs that were more open than draped. And the shoes, the tall heels, were the worst of the lot. Her feet were surely crying tears of blood. He kept just the right distance between them, so he was too far for her to notice and close enough to see her whole. He followed with ease, having already learned everything about the road she walked home upon. As they stepped onto the quiet streets, he could hear his heart raging and feel his blood surging. And when the moment came, when he didn't have to be overly careful, he broke into a sprint. By the time she noticed, he had his hand around her neck, lifting her off of her feet and throwing her to the ground.
He sat on her, enjoying the sight of her straining to gather her wits, looking into her eyes that were dazed and slowly coming into focus. He broke into a smile as the confusion on her face was replaced by fear. He laughed as she sobbed. He slapped her lips shut before she could get any words out. All that flowed out of her mouth was a thin stream of red. As despair filled her eyes, he plunged the blade into her chest. Far from her heart. He didn't want her gone too quick. He wanted to watch her squirm in pain. The more she squirmed, the better what came next felt.
He tore off her clothes, felt her soft flesh from head to toe, smelled her, committed all of her to memory, before he plunged into her. She gasped as he moaned, grieved as he relished. But she wished for the end as much as he did. As he climaxed, he plunged the knife into her heart. That moment, when she welcomed the end of her misery and when his pleasure touched the heavens, was bliss. It was what he lived for.
He was too careless. He hadn't even noticed that the quiet wasn't all his. A girl in a school uniform, probably returning from cram school, was walking not too far away. She was staring into her phone, completely oblivious to the world around her. There wasn't the slightest change in her steps, as if she hadn't even seen him. Was that possible? Could someone be so clueless? He hoped that was true. But he had to be sure. He got to his feet and started following the little girl.
He saw her walk into an apartment complex. The security recognized her, let her in. He climbed over the wall at a dark patch, blending into the shadows so no one could see him. He saw her in the empty lobby, waiting for the elevator. Bracing himself, he walked over. She didn't look up even after noticing him. He got into the elevator after her. She pressed 7. He pressed 6. He stood by the doors. She leaned against the back wall. He got off on the sixth floor, without once looking back at her. He broke into a run even before the doors closed fully. Up the stairs he ran, hoping he was faster than the elevator. He reached the seventh floor as she got out and walked down the hallway. She paused outside 711. Typed in the passcode and walked in without the littlest wariness. He ran again, reaching the door before it closed. He finally smiled as he stepped in.