A Mysterious Affair at Amherst, Chapter II

The cloudless sky allowed the light of the waning gibbous moon to illuminate the fields. The killer was awake, nerves heightened by the upcoming hunt, but he remained steadfast in his methodology. Though he had rested through the afternoon, through the evening, he had remained preternaturally alert to any outside disturbances.

He casually watched a family of deer walk within a few feet of his hiding place, browsing on the cedars. He had already spotted his next victim. She was beautiful by all accounts, most remarked on her eyes. They were expressive and wide, giving the air of wisdom. Some were amused that she perpetually appeared surprised.

She shook off the wind with a shiver, an extended flourish. Even her involuntary, physiological movements were graceful. He never hesitated, not a moment of appreciation as he attacked. It was over in a heartbeat, she had never even heard him coming.

Her mutilated body was found the next morning, again by a hiker. This time the killer was not watching the discovery, he had fled shortly before dawn. He wasn't far, it wasn't a large island, but he remained comfortably out of sight and away from possible disturbances. The killing didn't affect him, he possessed a steely coldness not only about the process, but to the stir his activities were causing in the local community. In fact, he was completely indifferent to the follow-up investigations and the media coverage, aspects most serial killers vigilantly pursued. He could not have cared less.

Ultimately, four bodies would be discovered over twelve days. If he had cared to comment he would have shrugged it off. After all, what will they say when they find the others?

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