There wasn't much activity at Thorn Park that morning. It was one of those harsh, frosty January mornings that nobody likes, when people forget what warmth feels like, and the sun has better things to do than come out and provide the slightest bit of light.

The park was silent but not dead, a soft murmur of voices audible among the trees--mostly the chitchat of old Jewish mothers discussing unimportant things, comparing their kids' preferences in cereal brands or fashion accessories. So relaxed.

So unsuspecting.

A pair of brown eyes watched them inconspicuously from behind a rosebush. As they burst out laughing from some bland, corny joke, the eyes rolled in disgust. Even murderers have a sense of humor.

How he would have liked to take the smaller of the weapons clasped in his gloved right hand and stick it through some of their vital organs. Test his dart skill; fifty points for killing the both in one throw.

But he woudln't. They were nobodys. They weren't worth the hours to be spent in a bathroom washing the blood off his hands later. No, they weren't even witnesses.

Not yet.

His focus turned to a young couple sitting on a bench not far from the gossiping ladies. They didn't look very aware of their surroundings. They were staring deeply into each other's eyes, holding hands, sharing a tender moment. They so obviously thought they were in love. The hiding man scoffed. Love. An illusion, more temporary than life yet more tempting than death. So stupid. Yet the media made everyone believe that they wanted it, that they were capable of it. And this couple was no exception.

The man studied them for a moment. The woman was fairly attractive, perhaps in her mid-twenties, or she could pass for it if she wasn't. She looked happy--hell, happy's an understatement, she looked downright ecstatic. But that woudln't last much longer. She, unfortunately, would get the worse deal of the two of them. The innocent ones always do.

Love sure is more tempting than death, which makes death pretty damn tempting without it. Her lover gets both. She gets neither.

He pulled the trigger.