Before You Run

Prologue

I'm walking down the dark, wet streets of London. Looking for someone to take my anger out on. I can't even begin to explain why I'm mad. It's been getting harder to identify the cause of the anger. I just have to do something about it before I do something that I can't take back. Something other than my daily hobby, of course. Some people might find my coping mechanisms to be a little much. While I agree with that, I can't seem to give a fuck.

So far, I haven't seen anyone walking alone. I don't do pairs. Occasionally I might get myself in stupid situations and have to tie up a few loose ends.

*Flashback* One time, I chatted up a girl who unbeknownst to me, was meeting up with her boyfriend. I had just gotten started with my game. Just a couple of playful jabs with my pocketknife to her chest later and a guy about my height , but stockier than me decided to play Hero.

He got me off of her but he was too late. Without me to hold her upright, her lifeless body slumped towards the wet concrete. It was as if he forgot all about me and they were the only two in the world. Ironic how that works. You can be so in love, have these moments of solitude, but also experience the same moments; only this time the moment is filled with a million questions flying at hundreds of miles an hour. Not enough time to grasp one and answer it. All you can do is try to make sense of what has happened. In his time of questioning, he seemed to remember everything. His back stiffened and I smiled. There's that fear I was waiting for, I thought to myself. I let him get up and face me. The look on his face was interesting. It was clear anguish and also a mix of fear/anger. A powerful and intoxicating mixture. I expected him to lunge at me or at least take a couple of swings, but instead he asked me why I killed his girlfriend. I was a little caught off guard, so instead of answering, I slashed his throat. His eyes went wide, while his hands went to his throat. It was quite comical, I almost wish I could capture the moment. *End of Flashback*

I give myself 10 minutes and if I can't find someone, then I'm going to have to do it the time-consuming way. Which means that I could pick up a slut and just take her somewhere. I've only ever had to do that twice. About 6 minutes pass and just as I'm about to give up, someone bumps me while walking by. I'm about to protest when I see that the shorter fella turned a corner and headed into an alley. Perfect. I quickened my pace, trying not to lose him. I turn and am faced with darkness and the occasional *drip drop* of whatever is leaking. I end up hearing him before I see him. *Sniff Sniff* Is he crying? I look around to try to spot him but with little luck. He sniffles again. This time, I can pinpoint where the sound is coming from.

I see him sitting on a piece of cardboard behind the dumpster, shoulders moving along to the sound of his sobs. I walk up to him, and silently sit next to him. So far, none of my victims have started crying until after I pulled out my knife. I didn't know how to approach this guy. Should I ask what's wrong? Would that be pointless considering the fact that I was about to be his biggest problem? (Little did I know that he was about to become mine?)