It was in the early hours of a Saturday morning. Tiny specks of snow fell and were being dusted like icing sugar onto the slate grey pavement. The evergreen trees in the park rustled and whispered to each other in the bone chilling night air. Every now and then, lights in the surrounding apartment buildings would flicker on and off. In the dead centre of the park sat a young man. He wore only a thin white linen shirt and a pair of jet black suit trousers. His charcoal hair had been twisted and coiled and now sat lifelessly on his head, as a result of the harsh New York winter. He sat rigid in place but his body shuddered in time with each gust of freezing wind that lashed at him.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sound of a single pair of stiletto heels. It got louder, closer. Then it stopped. Everything stopped. The whispers from the trees ceased and the falling snow abruptly concluded. The only movement in the park was the young man. He gradually rose from the park bench and staggered to the centre of the slippery, slush covered pavement. A dark, gloomy, almost ghost like shadow came into his view. Click. Clack. The heels began to move again and so did the shadow. As the shadow got closer her figure became more focused and her features were sharpened. She held an uncanny resemblance to a porcelain Barbie doll. Her cheek bones were clearly defined and her eyes, which were glassy and the colour of bluebells, pierced into the blackness. Her roasted chestnut coloured hair whipped around behind her, like a ferocious fire destroying a family home. A lily white faux fur coat hung loosely around her shoulders. An evil, sinister smile broke out across her face revealing her perfectly, polished, pearly white teeth, which contrasted the blood red lipstick she wore. The heels she donned were covered in tiny white pristinely cut diamonds that sparkled in the moonlight, with every step she took.

The man’s face was permanently stunted into a look of fear, as he stood frozen solid in place. Something had caught his eye. Something was glistening in the moonlight. The top of a shining silver revolver could be seen protruding out of the woman’s distressed jean pocket. He desperately wanted to run, but instead he stood transfixed on the gun, the woman and the sound of her shoes. It was like he was dead already. Click. Clack. She had stopped. Then there was silence once again, as she reached into her pocket and drew out the petite sized gun. The man trembled yet he still did not move. She rolled it from hand to hand as if it was just a toy. Then suddenly with one quick motion the gun was fired and the man fell painstakingly slowly to the pavement. The trees began to sway and rustle uncontrollably as if they were applauding the woman.

Several minutes passed, however time seemed to stand deadly still. The woman then pulled a dainty lace handkerchief from her coat pocket and ran it over the length of the gun, wiping it clean of her prints. She walked swiftly to close the gap between her and the man. As she knelt down next to the now lifeless body, she delicately placed the cleaned gun on the rugged pavement. A single tear rolled down the left cheek of her immaculately made up face, removing some of her pastel pink blush in the process. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, leaving a lipstick stain in the same deep ruby red colour of his blood, the blood that was now trickling out of the open wound.

Several lights in the apartment buildings nearby had been switched on and the city started to come alive. A police car siren sounded and so the women got casually to her feet. Click. Clack. She skipped lightly over the body and continued to walk, with a spring in her step, down the snow dusted, slate grey pavement. When the local precinct cop showed up at the scene all that could be heard were the evergreen trees chattering and the strange faint sound of Click, Clack, Click, Clack.