Palpable evil…

The street was dark and foreboding as she walked from the subway station. She looked back over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her but saw nothing. This was not an area known for it’s warmth or hospitality. For a moment, she thought of her neighborhood back home long ago where the streets were well-lit and everyone knew you and your family…safe, secure, friendly. People there were like the characters of a child’s fairy tale…all sugar and spice. Candy canes did not dance through the heads of the residents of this neighborhood as they slept.

Fantasyland was quickly replaced by images of slasher movies as the biting wind blew a small procession of litter about her. Oddly the litter seemed to match her pace as if seeking to be a hale companion. Walking a little faster, Rena turned the corner leaving Mr. Litter behind…but he didn’t seem to mind. The wind blew with less intensity here but the lighting was also less intense. A passerby might have described the scene as a page torn from a murder mystery magazine.

She was slight of build but not unattractive. Her shoulder-length brown hair blew about as if being punished by the wind. Friends would described her as mousy…but all would agree that she had the smile of an angel. The long threadbare coat she wore appeared to be a donation provided by a charitable organization but it covered her well and only left her ankles showing. Of course, to the predators of the night, one did not have to appear beautiful or wealthy…just being there in that neighborhood on that long winters’ night was enough to generate interest.

Taking long strides, she stepped off the curb at the next intersection as a ratty-looking car passed on the street parallel to her. The driver didn’t seem to notice the young woman as he continued on and she relaxed a little as he speeded up a little. On the opposite curb was a pawnshop that boasted “Highest dollar in town for quality items”. The place had bars over the front door, every window, and every conceivable inlet there was. She didn’t see him standing alone in the shadows.

He was equally as non-descript as she was. His face was one of those you’d have trouble describing to the police even if the mugging just happened minutes ago. His only distinguishing characteristic was that he wore a blue snap-brimmed cap with a dirty feather in it. To the average citizen, the man would just seem to be a part of the landscape, but to the police, he would earn immediate recognition and a long stay “up the river”. He had no conscience whatsoever and had within the past three months robbed and killed seven people in the one mile square area Rena was strolling through wearing that same
infamous cap. Evil was his stock in trade.

As Rena passed the place where death resided, he made careful inventory and decided that not only would she be his 8th victim, but also his first deviation from the usual pattern…she would provide a little carnal entertainment before she died. Seemingly oblivious to her surrounding, Rena continued up the avenue of death, not even bothering to look behind her or around her a single time. Evil incarnate however did scrutinize every detail of the dark street and designed his plan as carefully as a CEO about to make a presentation in a board room.

The street light at the next corner was broken, just a little forethought the spider had exercised when designing his web. There was a blind spot just behind the small shop that faced the intersection. It was there that the trap would spring shut rendering the helpless victim easy prey for the savage beast. He threw down the toothpick he was chewing and moved silently after little Rena feeling a certain sick elation within. A portion of his anatomy stiffened in anticipation of keen delight for a feast was about to be served and he its only patron.

Drawing a razor from his left hip pocket, the demon placed it in his right hand in an open position. Stained from the blood of previous happy encounters, the razor cast no reflection…actually, it felt passive and entertained no thoughts of its own. Rena was drawing abreast of the dark intersection and unbeknownst to her, was ripe for the picking. The monster made his move…

At first, Rena seemed to not notice she had company but the dark one took quick care of that by turning her to face him as her grabbed her neck from behind. She did not struggle and made not a single sound as he forced her to the blind spot threatening with Mr. Razor to guarantee her complete cooperation. It’s always easy as pie he thought, as pushed her along. His victims were like sleeping sheep in a pen. They never fought, never screamed, and never anticipated their doom until it was too late. Life was just so rewarding.

When he had manipulated Rena to just the spot he had carefully chosen, his hands began to explore what lay beneath the worn coat. As his hands groped both high and low, Rena slid her hand into her own left hip pocket. With a beatific smile, she brought forward a badge case displaying a shiny detective’s badge proclaiming her to be one of Chicago’s finest and pushed it into the rapist’s face. “Surprise!…Surprise!…Surprise!” jeered Rena in her best imitation of Gomer. The bad man stopped his assault and backed away staring in stunned disbelief at the badge.

In a nanosecond, the evildoer realized, that although she had a badge, she wasn’t displaying a weapon and no apparent backup was closing in. He continued to hesitate as an inner voice told him something was just too weird about this. She just stood there a moment as well holding the badge in front of her like a shield of old savoring the moment. Thoughts were competing for first place in his mind as he considered his next move.

In a mother-like voice, Rena cooed, “is something wrong darling?” The criminal shook his head as if to awaken from a bad dream. “Is something wrong with mother’s angel?” sweet-talked Rena. He raised Mr. Razor over his head as he dove for Rena. The razor seemed to awaken itself from a deep sleep and displayed a starved countenance as it sliced through the cold night air.

Hair-raising events often take on a certain slow motion effect as they are going down. This drama was one of those genre. As the hand of death descended just within reach of Rena’s space, her right hand caught it in mid-swing stopping it as surely as the last out in a world series. Her fingers tightened just as easily as an industrial machine on an assembly line crushing the flesh and bones as if they were clay.

The now would-be murderer felt his private appendage crushed and being torn off like a grasshopper’s leg in the hands of a cruel child. He screamed and managed to gurgle, “What…what are you?” “What am I?" queried Rena…”what am I? Why I’m the police you halfwit!” “Police?” repeated her prisoner. “Yeah…police…p-o-l-i-c-e…” she spelled it out for him. “Not police,” he painfully gasped. “Yep…I am”, chirped Rena in a sing-song fashion…”Special Police!!” Before the thought could barely register in his maggoty decayed mind, Rena’s fangs ripped his throat and he descended into his own private hell.

Vampires make darn good cops thought Rena!