In This Fight, It's Love or It's Death.

Prologue

Rain had fallen from the sky above, icy and cold. It was falling at a rapid pace, causing the night sky to seem even darker than it usually was. It was like a sense of gloom and evil was lurking in the shadows of the streets of New Jersey. Each shadow caused by the street lights seemed darker than the last. The rain ran down the street, building up at the bottom. A hooded young figure stood by a street light. They were leaned against the post, the cold metal had caused a wet patch against their jacket. Their head was hung low and no one could see their face.  Their hands were in their pockets, playing with something. Not many people roamed the streets at night, no one dared. Not in this area of New York. The young man looked fearless and stubborn, not scared of what lurked behind the shadows, even though he was usual apart of them himself. He waited for over an hour, waiting for the right time. His eyes weren’t visible due to the hood and his fringe, it gave him a sense of security. Nobody would know who he was; no one would ever know.
He knew that he had waited long enough. He knew when the time had come.
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He counted in his head until the target appeared from the dark alleyway. Emerging into the darkness of the street.  
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A young woman, around the age of 22, emerged from the shadows. She giggled, and fell to the floor in a drunken haze. She was oblivious to her surroundings, not a care in the world about the man next to her. The hooded man smirked and walked over to her limp body on the floor. She wasn't even passed out, just so intoxicated that she couldn’t stand. He smiled as he stood over her body. He knelt down on top of her and she just stared up at him with lifeless eyes. She didn't struggle. She didn't even flinch. She made his job easy. It’s not like he had any problem with his job in the first place, but she made it one quick swipe and she was over. He pulled out a blade from his pockets and played with it in front of her face. He liked teasing his victims. When their heart beats faster, more blood will emerge from their bodies. He liked that. He liked having a messy kill.
He pressed the blade next to her neck and drew it across. He didn’t do it hard enough in the first place. He wanted her to beg for her life. Not that he’d give her it. He did it for real the second time. He stood there, away from the blood squirt and watched her life wash away in the rain. It was tragic, but it didn’t stop a hint of a smirk on his face as he saw her take her last breath.
He didn't run back to his studio. Instead he walked, calmly, savouring the rain. His job was done, quick and easy. It was simple.