Mistaken Identity

The first time I saw the stranger, a bomb exploded at Times Square.  I watched amazed as police officers rushed by unaware of the monster in our midst, but I knew what he was.  He looked like them.  You know the type.  They hide their heads and their faces remain unshaven.  I figured if I caught this fool, the FBI would have to let me back in.

I followed him back into the subway.  His movements deliberate, his eyes cold and calculating.  For a man of average height and portly build, he moved with uncanny stealth.  I had to utilize my skills as a hunter not to lose him again because he had a knack for disappearing in a blink of an eye. 

For nights, I shadowed the terrorist as he roamed the subways in search of the innocent.  His pale complexion was a result of avoiding daylight, no doubt to continue his escape from the authorities. 

I studied the bomber while he eyed a petite beauty.  As the express train roared by, I thought I caught a glimpse of drool falling off his chin.  No, not drool, but blood from biting his lips.

To my surprise, the terrorist approached the girl, her short spiky hair, crimson, alluring, outright sexy.  She laughed at his advances but her gaiety soon changed to hypnotic wonder.

Observing the predator, I admired his style.  I heard when he asked, no commanded for her to accompany him to a spot where darkness ruled.

It seemed I walked for hours in that tunnel of death, yet there was no sign of the pair.  Only a stiff breeze pricked at my skin with surgical precision.  Just when I was about to give up and return to the safe haven of the crowded station, my eyes, already adjusted to the darkness, spotted the terrorist standing before me.  He gestured to the ground.  I pulled out my flashlight and saw the damsel slumped against a wall.

"Why are you following me?"  His voice, not what I expected, echoed an ancient tone, powerful and eloquent.

I withdrew my trusty nine millimeter Glock pistol.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Your days of killing are over."

His dark hypnotic eyes stopped time.

"I know what you are," I said.

Instead of concern, he sighed as though relieved.

I continued, "I know you're a terrorist."

He smiled and said, "Look again."

I wanted to shed light back on the girl but my muscles tightened.  Ordinary movement became impossible. 

"Open your mind to me."  His voice beckoned though his lips did not move.

In a flash, I saw his attack on the girl and sensed a willingness on her part to be taken.

Out of sheer necessity, I squeezed off one, two, three rounds, but he did not flinch.  The terrorist opened his mouth, revealed his true identity, and towered over me.  His thick vampire lips caressed my bare neck, followed by pure bliss.



-491 words