A cool breeze traveled through the quiet night. Most buildings had gone dark, very few still had dim lights in their windows. A lone figure walked down the street, visible in the streetlamps and disappearing in the shadows as he moved down the road.

A dark jacket and hood concealed him from the world. No one knew his name, not his real name. He traveled a distance up the road, approaching an empty parking lot. He crossed the open lot, towards the large building.

Suddenly he stopped, listening intently. He turned slightly, heading in a new direction.

He took one step, and she bolted. A young woman, clutching a spot of dark crimson on her torso, fleeing for her life. He smiled, watching her for a few moments before pursuing and quickening his pace.

She ran towards the now abandoned building, disappearing into the darkened interior. Carefully, slowly, he stepped into the building and scanned the large open room. He made his way across the space, carefully examining each of the store fronts he passed by.

In his hand he turned a stained knife impatiently. Soft, rapid footsteps echoed in the darkness, revealing his way. The sounds steadily got closer, suddenly stopping.

He slowed to a stop as well, waiting patiently. Within a few moments, the footsteps started up again as she crossed his line of sight. She saw him too, wasting little time in fleeing the opposite direction. He continued his pursuit, strolling at a casual pace.

She was slowed by her wound; he knew he could catch her.

She turned into a store, by the time he rounded the corner she had vanished from view. A clothing store riddled with mannequins and displays everywhere. He pulled the security gate closed behind him, cutting off the only escape route.

Eerie silence once more. He crept into the dark room, listening, watching. False human shapes caught his eye, but he knew better. He carefully monitored the limited visible area for movement.

Slight shuffling. He stopped.

Silence.

He waited, knife turning and turning within his grasp. Suddenly he whipped around and flung the weapon across the room, shattering a glass display case. The shuffling he'd heard instantly ceased.

He waited a moment before he crossed the room carefully, still analyzing his surroundings closely. He knelt and reached forward to reclaim his weapon. She grabbed it first, turning it on him. He ducked backwards to avoid her attack. She was determined. Afraid. She swung wildly at him, so frantic she wasn't worrying about aiming.

That was her mistake.

Her first and second swipes missed by a good distance as he stepped backward to avoid them. Her third swipe tore at his jacket sleeve threateningly, but her fourth was caught. With the weapon and victim both secured in a tight grasp, he held his free arm out behind him, the sharp sound of metal scraping against metal cutting through the dark room.

A long, thin blade extended from his sleeve. Nearly 3 feet of steel with a smooth, narrow shape, sharpened and polished like the prized possession it was. He thrust the blade into her stomach as far as it would cut in a single strike, then rocked the blade back and forth, twisting and working it deeper into her flesh until the entire length was soaked in blood.

She cried out in pain, scratching at his twisted mask in desperation. A malevolent false face, an even vertical split between a sorrowful, ghostly white frown and a malicious looking sleek black grin.

The blade was retracted as she was released from his grip and fell to the floor. Groans of pain were cut off by choking as she spit up blood. Her arms trembled as she struggled to move them, pulling herself along the floor in a desperate attempt to reach the discarded knife.

He watched her, mostly curious as to her intended plan, as she managed to reach the previously shattered glass case where the knife lay at the feet of the display's mannequins. He took note of a particularly large shard of glass in perfect positioning, stepping forward.

She was spurred forward, making a final attempt to reach for the weapon as he stood over her. A heel dug into the base of her neck tauntingly, but she refused to back down. It wasn't until he thrust his heel down on her that she finally fell still, the glass shard piercing her throat as it was forced downward.

Just as swiftly as it had appeared the blade retracted, concealing itself under his sleeve as he retrieved the knife and took a step back, admiring the result of his night's work. Strolling through the abandoned building and out to the parking lot, he removed his mask before lowering his hood and messing with his hair briefly, casually walking up the street.

Now, he was just another guy, taking a midnight walk through town. And he would be until the next night. He always had more work to do. Moving his trek to the sidewalk, he folded the mask and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket, tossing the knife into a pond as he walked by. Finally, he removed the incriminating gloves and tucked them beside the mask in his pocket.

He removed a small case from the other pocket, taking out the contents. Prescription glasses, which he unfolded and situated in their place. Trading out one mask for an entirely different one. A façade he was forced to uphold to keep his true nature hidden.

As he entered the residential part of town, looking around at the houses nearby put a smile on his face. Props and decorations covered just about every house in the city. Halloween. The best time of year. He always loved this season, and the whole city seemed to share his infatuation with the fright themed holiday.

It was the one time of year he could be himself, his true self, if even for a few fleeting hours. A few blocks into the neighborhood he reached his intended destination, climbing over the fence and dropping into the backyard of a quiet home. He crossed the yard silently, tracing along the house to find the window he was looking for. Unlocked, as he expected it to be.

The window slid open with a few soft creaks before he carefully crawled inside, touching down in the dormant living room. He slowly slid the window closed again, locking it before making his way across the room.

It was a path he'd mapped out so many times before, making it simple to navigate even in near total darkness. Reaching a flight of stairs, he climbed slowly to ensure he made little to no sound as he moved through the silent home. At the next floor he turned down the hallway and came to a door left unlatched, pushing it open gently and stepping in.

The risky part of the process was over, as he gingerly pushed the door closed and clicked the light on. He made his way to the closet of the room, sliding the doors open and kneeling down. He ran his fingers along the wall, pressing lightly.

A panel was pushed out of place, allowing him to grip the newly exposed corner and pull it off the wall, revealing a small hidden cache. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the homemade contraption strapped to his arm. A thin mechanism held together by metal rods each roughly the width of a pencil, secured to his arm by leather straps.

An adjustable hand grip designed to slide up to his palm or retract under his sleeve connected to the mechanism by a strand of fishing line. A simple squeeze of the handle's trigger set off the mechanism, extending and retracting the regularly sharpened blade from its resting spot along his forearm. He unhooked the straps and removed the homemade weapon, setting it within his hidden space, taking the mask and gloves from his pocket and setting them beside his weapon.

Lastly, he replaced the panel, smoothing the edges until the grooves were nearly invisible. With the deed done and evidence properly disposed or concealed, he took off his jacket and sat on his bed, stretching and letting out a quiet sigh.

Damn, what a holiday.