He stares at the once steel knife, now rusted with blood. Pushing the blade slowly into the wet earth, trying fruitlessly to clean it. When he pulls it up, it was still dirty, but less so, able again to make precise incisions. Glancing at the blue house, with no lights on, gets out of his crouch and crosses the lite street. The man puts the knife in a sheath strapped to his thigh, and continues to creep towards the garden.

The rose bushes emit a stench that makes him cough. It seems anything pleasant disgusts him, and everything unpleasant makes him giddy. He spots the ladder that a man had used earlier to fix the roof. Cautiously, he moves it to the window, taking care not to tap the glass. Scampering up the aluminum rungs, like a squirrel, towards his goal. He eases the window open, just enough to fit his body, and goes in.

The girl is sleeping diagonally on her bed. Her blonde locks look like rays of sunshine, against her dark comforter. Her angelic face seems peaceful in her deep slumber. Walking towards the bed the man pulls out a bottle of chloroform and a rag. He pours the toxin onto the rag and slowly put it on the girl’s mouth. Her breathing hitches but she remains asleep. He tosses her over his muscular shoulder and climbs down the ladder. He streaks across the too well illuminated street and to his car. Opening the trunk he places her in it and drives away. His mind is racing with adrenalin as he turns onto the highway. The easiness of this abduction makes him unable to keep a smile off of his face. The others always had a snag, a light sleeping parent, a protective dog or nosy neighbors. But no one seems to know that this girl is gone.

Pulling up to the warehouse, a sturdy building that has with stood many a hurricane wind, and has thick walls that should block out the screams. He brakes the car and gets out. The gravel crunching under his feet, the only sound heard for miles. He pops the trunk, grabs the girl and proceeds into the gloom. Following the maze of doors he has clearly memorized, not stopping until he gets to the last one marked with a Z. Unlocking the iron door, he deposits the girl without further ado on to the floor. Then he grabs the nylon rope stashed on the hook on the door, and gets busy. Before long he has her bound to a support beam in the middle of the floor. Her eyes start to flicker, he quickly leaves the room with the same gleeful smile he had in the car on his face.

His heavy working boots echo as he passes the other doors. If he listens closely, he can almost hear them giving up. That thought made his smile stretch even wider. He stops at the only door without a letter and enters. The light fazes him for only a second, before he goes towards the bed and collapses with exhaustion. As sleep claims him, the smile never leaves his face.

His dreams run amuck that night. Images of a family long forgotten harass his mind. The worst was when he saw his mother and her ever-present scowl. It gave him satisfaction to mentally murder her. Sunlight penetrates the window as he awoke. Leisurely stretching, he checks to make sure he had his knife, and went to visit Z.

When he arrives at her door, he was surprised to find no sound of screaming. Thinking that maybe he had over dosed her with chloroform, he walks in. he finds her just sitting there calmly, he wrinkles his brow in confusion. Her angelic face is smudged with dirt and her hair is in the same state. She has a vulnerable look in her eyes as well as a stubborn set in her chin. At this odd combination he laughs, which seems to scare her more, so he kept laughing. When he is finished, she tensely says,

“Who are you?”
At her whispery scared voice, he smiles and says, “Matthew Danez, at your service.” The fear in her eyes makes him want to laugh again, but he contains his glee. “And who, my dear, are you?”

“Don’t you know? After all you did kidnap me.”

“Well I would hope you’re Miss Zoe Sedcret.”

“And if I am?”

This one has backbone, he thought, which he could appreciate. Strolling over to her, he slowly pulls out his knife. “If you are Miss Zoe Sedcret, then I’m going to kill you.”

She gasps and tries to turn way from him, but he grabs her jaw. Slowly he presses the knife to her skin, until it bleeds. Then he carefully draws a Z onto her cheek. Seeing the tears threating to escape he lets her go, and says, “Until we meet again, Miss Zoe Sedcret.” And leaves with a bow.

He repeats this visit the next day, and in the same manner, cuts her cheek again. He did this for a week, until he was certain, the Z would always remain. Finally he could finish the plan.

The iron door bangs open as Matthew strolls in. The devil’s fire seems to burn in his ice blue eyes, as he watches Zoe. Slowly he pulls out his knife, and Zoe involuntarily flinches. Giving her that predatory grin of his, he cuts her ropes. Grabbing her wrist he drags her out of the room and into the hallway.

He stalks down the hallway for a few minutes until he comes to the door. Instead of one red letter, it has eleven. Underneath each letter is a name, M-Madeline, A-Anna, T-Teri, T-Tami, H-Hannah, E-Eva, W-Whitney, D-Diana, A-Amy, N-Noel, and E-Erica. Smiling at the almost finished name, Matthew ushers Zoe in.

The room is a mess. Blood stains the walls and the stench is unimaginable. Zoe starts to regurgitate, which gets him to smile even harder. But what is priceless, in his mind, was when her eyes fell on the source of the odors smell. The eleven bodies in the corner are in various stages of decomposition. Madeline’s ear has even fallen off, adding to the effect. Zoe starts to run, but Matthew is faster and pounces on her, quick as a cat. Her screams are the only thing for miles around.

An hour later, he exits the room. Turning towards the door, he uses his hands to paint the blood in a Z shape, underneath he adds Zoe and walks away. Later that night he calls a moving company, requesting the biggest truck they have, and sets to work.

It takes him two hours to load all the bodies into the truck and get their nametags on them. When he arrives at the park he arranges his greatest piece of work, and leaves, a smile still on his face.

When officers arrive on the scene, they are dumbfounded. Twelve dead girls all wearing nametags with their first initial slashed into their cheeks. But it is the message underneath the bodies that got them scared the most, which read, “Come and catch me before I change my name again.”