Hunt ☢ o.d + 5sos

Victim #1: Harry Styles

Victim #1: Harry Styles

Bonners Ferry, Idaho

Joe's Diner

May 23, 2013

1:03 AM

+++

"More coffee, sir?"

He spoke, attempting to maintain a chipper facade in spite of his evident exhaustion. I slowly leaned over the table, my back losing contact with the booth, and peered into the ivory colored mug. Only a few drops of espresso remained at the bottom.

"No, I'm alright."

I replied in a monotone, fixated on the young male before me-a scrawny one, he was, with a build that broadened nearly imperceptibly above his waist apron. There was little meat adorning his skeleton, leaving me to wonder how he fared during the numbing Idaho winters. He nodded, acknowledging my declination before returning the coffee pitcher to the kitchen. My eyes fell to his legs as he navigated the place, watching intently as he roamed. His supporting limbs faltered slightly with each step, bringing an infinitesimal smile upon my seemingly impassive face.

He was not a sturdy man, not nearly. In fact, he possessed the physique of a prepubescent girl. Even so, there is a beauty in the way his limbs-as frail as the leaves of a willow tree-worked in tandem to heave a large trash bag over his shoulder.

It was time. I placed five dollars on the table for effect and stepped out into the crisp, night air.

I skulked down the marred asphalt as stealthily as possible, my quick steps across the pavement barely audible. After scanning the perimeter, I slipped into the adjoining alleyway and inched towards the lanky being who was silhouetted against an illuminated doorway. I waited with heightened vigilance for him to dump the bag of waste into the dumpster, before cautiously lowering my hand to my back pocket and pulling out a small cloth.

I pounced on him in that exhilarating moment where speed prevails over stealth. I forced the cloth over his nose and mouth and restricted his arms.

For a good minute or two, he struggled under my grasp, but as his system began responding to the sickly sweet compound he was inhaling, the little muscle he had deteriorated. Soon enough, his unconscious body sunk into my hold.

One down, seven to go. One step closer to the Hunt.