Prologue
They had become far too predictable. The nice-looking, shapely young women would leave themselves open to whatever—or whoever—came their way, as if they had not a care or concern in the world. Whether it was jogging for no good reason, walking by their lonesome in the dead, dark of night, being utterly lackadaisical in an unattended parking garage, stupidly leaving a car unlocked, a window open or other avoidable means of vulnerability, they were ripe for the picking, like a perfect and delicious red apple. Or even a green one—that worked for him, too. It made his mission almost too easy for someone who liked challenges. Not that he had anything against hardly having to work to satisfy his cravings, per se. Why should he care if the pretty, sexy ones fell right into his trap like enticing lambs to the slaughter? Wasn’t that what every sensible and eager serial killer dreamed of?
He broke free of his admittedly dark reverie, recognizing that the moment at hand was quickly approaching. It wouldn’t be very smart if his own overconfidence and, frankly, lack of scruples cost him another victim to add to his lovely collection of violets. There she was. Just like clockwork. Ticktock. Ticktock. He remained hidden and motionless in the shadows, watching excitedly as she tied her long and curly raven hair in a ponytail, adjusted her earbuds and set off running in colorful designer jogging attire. On the surface, the wooded area full of Douglas firs and Western white pines seemed safe enough, even during twilight hours, with lamps giving off just enough light and other runners to pass by for a sense of security. He assumed that was the runner’s calculus, false as it was. Perhaps she planned to meet her husband or boyfriend afterward for dinner and sex or whatever. Or maybe she would settle for a nice hot shower and good night’s sleep, before starting the boring work grind all over again tomorrow.
Unfortunately, she would never live to see another day. Or even an hour. She had seen to that herself. She was like a cornered and helpless rat, and it was time to take out of its misery by going in for the kill. Anticipating her every move like a champion chess player who had an aversion to losing, he was faster and smarter, enabling him to beat her to the point where she would normally have veered off to the left and another, more active jogging trail.
Instead, he was waiting for her there, flexing an expensive silk scarf as a prelude to what was coming. The terrified look on her pretty face and in those big, brown eyes was almost worth the satisfaction welling within him like a furnace ready to erupt. Almost. It wasn’t till she tried halfheartedly in a moment of desperation to escape the trap that he had set that he cut her off and made sure her attempt fell like a flattened tire. Before any screams could erupt from her full mouth, he had already wrapped the scarf around her neck, twisting and tightening with pleasure in silencing her till her last breath was expended. Only then could he breathe a sigh of relief that he had succeeded in killing once again.
As the victim sank down to the ground, he pulled out a single blue violet and stuck it between her lips that had remained parted even in death, as if welcoming his going-away-from-life present.