The Perfect Stranger

January 3, 2012
By Brittany Hopkins BRONZE, Tampa, Florida
Brittany Hopkins BRONZE, Tampa, Florida
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The best mask is normalcy, the unique ability to blend into any situation; be the one person in the room that no one notices. There’s power in invisibility; power in seeming as unimportant and inconsequential as the wallpaper or the lamp. The best mask is normalcy.

Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, good looking, but not model perfect, he was your average John Doe. He was made to be a hunter, his prey didn’t see him, he blended as a chameleon but possessed the raw power of a panther on the prowl. He staked the room, eyes gazing over every corner. The most important part of the game was to pick a worthy opponent. Blending in as if he was one with the bar he ever so casually leaned against, striking the perfect balance of power and poise, he continued to stake the room with his eyes hungrily.

One could almost compare him to an archaeologist painstakingly sifting through the sand looking for that one treasure. That one artifact so unique and so pure it was his destiny to find, and posses. After what seemed like ages of sifting through the inconsequential he found her. The one. She stood on the opposite side of the room her long slender body wrapped in a silky black dress. The dark color of her dress was a stark contrast between her vibrant red hair and milky skin that seemed to be kissed by the slightest touches of freckles. But it wasn’t her obvious physical appeal that drew her to him, it was her vivacity, the confidence she seemed to exude. Only two types of women came out alone, women driven by loneliness and desperation following their inherent need to find someone to “love” them, even if temporarily; or those whose confidence transcended the bounds of normal female behavior, letting them feel secure in herself, even sans her group of girlfriends. She obviously fell into the latter category the way she stood draped teasingly over her table sipping on a drink holding court with an unlikely suitor gave proof to this fact. Not tonight buddy. He smiled to himself chuckling at the situation, grabbed his glass and downed the rest of his drink.

He was on the move. Striding across the room confidently, this was his jungle and the fetching red head was his prey. He moved in. He saddled up next to the unlucky suitor who was drunkenly trying to start a conversation with her. He tapped him on the shoulder fixing his glare on the poor drunken bastard conveying every feeling of contempt he held for the tactless man. The inebriated man looked back into his eyes that seemed drunk off of lust and pure power and he saw the true darkness that lay beneath. He stumbled off leaving him open to make his move. “Well that was rude.” She smiled coyly at him, her brown eyes wrecking havoc on his senses, a feeling of extreme wanting filled him. It was like warm honey suddenly filling his body leaving him feeling satisfied, but thirsty for more. “Thought I’d do you a favor, he seemed to be boring you and smelled as if he bathed in a bottle of Jack Daniels.” Her whimsical chuckle filled him with hope, his thirst grew. “Well I didn’t know that I had my own personal superman, but I’m not going to complain” She sized him up and down her eyes teasing him. God he needed her like a crack head needed a fix. “Well in return for me saving you from a horrible night and possibly disastrous future I only ask two favors.” “Well I thought super heroes were supposed to save the damsel in distress out of the goodness of their hearts.” She batted her long eyelashes at him while subtlety biting her lower lip. He chuckled, she was flirting back with him, and rather seductively. He fixed his most charming smile on her “All I want is one dance and to know my damsel in distresses name. How else am I to tell the other super heroes about the beautiful girl I rescued at the bar tonight.” She broke out in a toothy grin and he knew that he had her. He smiled smugly as she reached over and grabbed his hand “Let’s go, and the name is Jen.”

One song rolled into another and after they had danced half the night away rubbing their bodies on each other to the beat of numerous top ten tracks his hunger was gnawing at his very being. He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside to an open table. She leaned against him hanging off like a vine on a tressel, her big brown eyes staring into his. “Is this the point of the night where you ride off into the sunset with me on the back of your noble steed.” She smiled at him seductively. “Beautiful and intuitive, we may have a winner folks.” Her light airy laugh filled him with longing. She threw back her head lost in laughter as he stared at her slim milky neck growing more and more desperate by the second. “Well before we ride off superman, can I have your name finally?” “John.” He struck her with another one of his dazzling smiles, grabbed her hand and led her out of the door.

His body was on edge. Desperate for the release she would provide. He shot her a quick smile as she sat in his passenger seat toying with the radio. He drove down the road as silence filled the car and tension and anticipation ran through his body like a heady drug. He didn’t know if he could make it to the house, the need was building inside of him. He sped up the car as he continued down the road. “You in a rush superman?” He chuckled at her reference to the cars building speed as he gave her one of her wolfish smiles. Her laughter filled the car and began to strain on his control as he sensed all her anxiousness melting. He had her right where he wanted her.

They pulled up to his house an average cookie cutter home in the middle of suburbia. She opened the door and confident strutted to his doorstep her narrow hips swaying in a seductive manner. He followed her drunk off of his need for her. He fumbled to open the door with the alacrity that his body craved as he pulled her inside. She sent him a knowing smile. He chuckled; need making him high off of her presence. He almost groaned knowing his release was so close. He smiled at her admiringly. She was the one, he knew it. He’d been searching for months, years maybe, but she was the real deal, the perfect kill. His eyes glowed with anticipation as he pulled her into his room, shut the door, and locked it.

The author's comments:
This is meant give the readers a sense of shock. I was inspired to write this after a long marathon of Criminal Minds. After watching the BAU attempt to get in the heads of a killer I began to question how a true killer thinks. How would it feel to really be in his head. I wanted my readers to enter the head of our unknown killer, walk a mile in his shoes and see what makes him tick.

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