Dull yellow lights, oddly shaped shadows.
Faint music, a bored, weary security guard.
Motionless, breathing softly, relaxed, ready, 
watching, waiting patiently.
Completely covered in black, weapon sheathed. 
A skilled hunter in his natural habitat, 
blending smoothly into the scene like 
uniformed kids in a schoolyard.

It's a quarter past ten, almost on the dot.
Shoes echoing off the concrete,
she steps quickly into the picture.
Waves and smiles at the guard, grabs her keys 
and a cigarette, the usual routine.
Another long day on the job, same as yesterday 
and the day before, nothing on her mind now 
but home and dinner.
 
Notices an oil spill, steps out of the light briefly 
to avoid stepping in the mess. 
From the corner of her eye fleeting motion, 
she reacts instinctively, swerving  to her left.
Too late though, a soft gasp, total shock , as she 
collapse to the floor, eight inches of stainless
steel buried in her chest.

He bends over her carefully, she's terrified, gasping
choking on blood, shivering, dying slowly.
Smiles, a quick flash of white and casually 
retrieves the knife. 
It never gets old, the stake-out, that rush as the 
blade connects to soft tissue, giddy with power, 
staring into their eyes, watching as the reaper 
methodically lays claim to another life.

Gets up, humming softly and quietly disappears  
into the shadows. Its his second kill this week.
Damn, life is good for this quiet unassuming 
son of a preacher.
Loving husband, devoted father, mommas boy, 
all-american family man. Legend in the making, a 
despicable, cold-blooded, urban predator

Predator -  copyright © 2000 Ahkenaton  all rights reserved