The anger blurred her vision with hot tears. They burned her cheeks as they rolled down her face and impacted the ground below her feet. She could see him now, but she herself was hidden by shadows. He approached where she had been stationed the last hour, waiting for him to leave. All she could see was her husband, dead and lifeless as she held him in her arms. She shook the dreadful memory from her head and focused on the task at hand. He came closer, and she gripped tighter onto the knife. He got out his keys to open the door to his car, and she lunged at him with all her strength. Again she struck, tears burning her skin, blearing her sight. She kept thrusting the knife into him, blood splattering her skin. The only thing she thought about was her husband and how this man had taken the life away from him, and from her.


Reality suddenly struck her and abruptly, she stopped. She looked around only to see crimson. She scanned the horizon and, surprisingly, a figure was running towards her. The knife slipped form her grasp, making a loud clamor and she jumped. She readied herself to run, but then realized she recognized the face. The detective ran to her, gasping for breath.


“He’s not the one,” he breathed. She looked at the lifeless corpse.


“Are you sure?” she asked.


“Yes,” he began, “am I too late?”


“Yes,” she solemnly replied.

The detective reached for her shoulder, and she tried to pull away. His grip tightened as he reached for his handcuffs…