Dante Lockman put on a mask and looked at the mirror: He saw a madman; a man in a hockey mask, with a blue left eye and a red right eye reflecting the madness inside him. And then, as slowly as he could, he picked up a dagger...
Freddie Morgan was preparing for an incredibly important meeting, he took out a comb and started sifting through his hair as he talked on the phone, "Yes...yes...yes. Keenan, when will Mr. Knox arrive again? ......12:30? Okay, thanks." He hung up and checked his watch, the time was 11:45. "45 minutes left, I can still eat a small lunch!" He muttered to himself. And then a knife appeared before his neck with flash of silver. And a voice as cold as steel, spoke behind him, "Ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" Freddie answered with a whisper, "N...no." He glanced at the mirror, and he saw a man in a black trench coat and a hockey mask, but he forced himself remain calm, "What do you want, sir? Take anything you want, I...I don't want to die!" The man, again speaking with the cold voice, replied, "Well, there is one thing you ought to know: I don't want anything from you except you life." Freddie, shaking now, his mind a mess, asked in a shaking voice, "Then, Wh...why do you kill?" Dante replied, "I don't kill for just anything, I kill for FUN." And as soon as he finished the sentence, Dante slitted Freddie's throat. He watched his victim fall into a pool of blood, it felt... good.
Freddie fell, looking at the man responsible for his death. And at that moment, he saw a mad, crazed murderer. He felt a cold sensation creep up to him, and then, he inhaled one last time, and closed his eyes.
Dante looked at his bloody, gloved hand. He felt a sense of satisfaction seep inside him, knowing that his murder succeeded. He was looking at the corpse now: Freddie, now dead, is laying on the floor, his perfect hair soaked with blood and his neck a bloody mess. Dante found himself smiling, and took off his mask. Calmly, he started to wipe the blood of the serrated blade of his knife. And then he left, silently, just like the way he came.
-1 day later-
"What's his name?" asked Sergeant Allen Payne of Shadowlake PD. "Freddie Morgan, sir. Chief Creative Officer of Oldwall Techs, 32 years old and currently single." replied Detective Milo Johns. "How did he get killed?" "Clean cut to the throat, severing major arteries, Blood everywhere." "Any prints or DNA, Milo?" Payne asked again. "No sir, the only thing we got from the killer is a note." "A note?" Payne repeated Milo's words with uncertainty. "Yes sir, a note," Milo ruffled his tousled hair. "Right this way, sir." Payne followed Milo into the room Freddie Morgan was murdered.
True to Milo's words, blood was everywhere. But the note was not what he quite expected. The so-called 'note' was a brush-painted message left on the wall, painted with Freddie's blood. It read,
Dante Lockman sat in his apartment, with his eyes pinned to his bloody hockey mask. The hollow eyes of the mask seemed to be urging him, urging him to put on the mask, and strike again. He laughed, looking at his dagger, an interesting weapon, a serrated blade and an intricate handle, looking at the mirror with his bloodshot eyes, he saw a person with wild, brown hair and a hint of insanity on his face. He took a deep breath, and put on the mask, becoming the Everyman.
Freddie fell, looking at the man responsible for his death. And at that moment, he saw a mad, crazed murderer. He felt a cold sensation creep up to him, and then, he inhaled one last time, and closed his eyes.
Dante looked at his bloody, gloved hand. He felt a sense of satisfaction seep inside him, knowing that his murder succeeded. He was looking at the corpse now: Freddie, now dead, is laying on the floor, his perfect hair soaked with blood and his neck a bloody mess. Dante found himself smiling, and took off his mask. Calmly, he started to wipe the blood of the serrated blade of his knife. And then he left, silently, just like the way he came.
-1 day later-
"What's his name?" asked Sergeant Allen Payne of Shadowlake PD. "Freddie Morgan, sir. Chief Creative Officer of Oldwall Techs, 32 years old and currently single." replied Detective Milo Johns. "How did he get killed?" "Clean cut to the throat, severing major arteries, Blood everywhere." "Any prints or DNA, Milo?" Payne asked again. "No sir, the only thing we got from the killer is a note." "A note?" Payne repeated Milo's words with uncertainty. "Yes sir, a note," Milo ruffled his tousled hair. "Right this way, sir." Payne followed Milo into the room Freddie Morgan was murdered.
True to Milo's words, blood was everywhere. But the note was not what he quite expected. The so-called 'note' was a brush-painted message left on the wall, painted with Freddie's blood. It read,
Good luck catching me, people. Here's a tip: Jason and a dagger
~ From your friendly killer, Everyman.
Payne read the message, puzzled. As he walked backed to his car, Dante prepared his next murder.Dante Lockman sat in his apartment, with his eyes pinned to his bloody hockey mask. The hollow eyes of the mask seemed to be urging him, urging him to put on the mask, and strike again. He laughed, looking at his dagger, an interesting weapon, a serrated blade and an intricate handle, looking at the mirror with his bloodshot eyes, he saw a person with wild, brown hair and a hint of insanity on his face. He took a deep breath, and put on the mask, becoming the Everyman.
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