The Killing

“If you listen close you can hear him cry
Oh, Lord, Heaven knows we belong way down below (Sing it)
Oh, Lord, Heaven knows we belong way down below
Way down below, way down below”
The Pretty Reckless - Heaven Knows
~~
Decades. The same town. Decades. He struck every Christmas. He struck every year. He struck with precision. He struck with grace.
If he was good for anything, he made sure that the people of the small town of Rayne, California made sure to lock their doors and windows on Christmas. He made sure that fathers took extra caution to protect their daughters. Husbands knew to make sure that their wives were home before dark. He made sure that every little girl was taught to defend themselves. That all men made sure that their wives carried some form of self-defence on them at all times.
Everyone knew Christmas wasn't safe after dark. That even during the day it was risky. You went to church, visited your family, then went back home until dark and prayed to God that your wife and daughter would be there in the morning when you wake up.
No one knew why he did it. Why he picked Christmas. Or even who he was. The only way, that people knew that he was the same person every year, was the signature cross carved with a serrated knife down the chest of every victim.
No one knew...
And then there was Gwen.