The Sunflower Killer

Chapter Five

The wind shrieked and tore through their coat, spinning and wrapping about their body; a sinister miasma clouding their face. The night was long, and they were determined to find another victim tonight.

They had dabbled in killing before. 

It started off with ants. They were fascinated to see them squirm and char underneath the magnifying glass. Then it was butterflies, with their fragile legs and even more fragile wings. They tore them off one by one, and was delighted to watch the tiny insect's naked bodies crawl pitifully on the palm of his hand. Glitter from the wings transferred onto their fingertips, leaving a chilling trail of pixie dust.

Although they relished in the thrill of these killings, they decided to move onto something bigger. They had experience withdrawing blood from rats here and there, but their ultimate goal was much larger than that. But first, they needed a test subject.

Walking through an open field, they immediately spotted a villa. A large one, covered in vines that spiralled and climbed between the towering gates and the windows. A singular light post illuminated the property. It shone directly into one of the panels on the third floor. The killer did a double-take. It appeared that one of the windows was open.

A laugh threatened to spill out of their mouth, and they covered their face to stop the ecstatic shaking. How foolish, they thought, producing the freshly picked belladonna from the inside of their cloak. How utterly foolish.

The lock was picked open with a thin piece of wire and they pushed open the gates, careful to not disturb anyone who was potentially stirring. But all was silent in the enormous house, so they gripped the stone walls and began to climb.

They cursed underneath their breath as they nearly lost their footing, but eventually hauled themself up over the ledge. The person inside was going to die, and they would deliver the death blow. Excitement bubbled in their chest and they steadied themself from shaking.

Unsheathing their knife, they leapt into the room. After a minute of fruitless searching, they were met with an unfathomable amount of disappointment when they found that nobody was in the room.

The killer wondered if they should just make do with someone else in the villa instead, but their good mood was already ruined. Attacking someone else wouldn't give them the same joy.

Just as they were tucking the knife and belladonna back into their cloak, a hiss sounded from the corner of the room, and a pair of feline eyes stared up at them. With a yowl, a cat pounced, clinging onto their pant leg and sinking its teeth into their flesh.

Fighting a scream, the killer shook it off. They grasped the cat and pushed down its haunches, forcing its jaw open. Producing the belladonna, they quickly crushed it into its mouth, waiting for the life to slowly fade out of its eyes. Within minutes, the cat subdued and slumped over, as though there was never a struggle in the first place.

Letting go a breath of relief, the killer laid the remaining branch of belladonna next to the lifeless body of the cat. It was almost certain that he was going to come back, and he needed them to be afraid. He wanted them to be afraid. It would be boring otherwise.