Dapper and dark, his hands tremble with anticipation. His warm, sweet breath can scarcely speak to offer her a drink.

Poor, trusting fool, taken, for just a moment, by his charm, his charisma, his impeccable  dress.

Her carriage awaits, inviting and warm. A short ride to a perfectly dark spot. She suddenly feels afraid, but his sweet breath escapes once again...

“It’s alright my Love, we must be discreet for my position forbids this encounter.”

The sorrow in her eyes, her pale flesh, the pain in his heart, he can no longer resist. The softness of his touch beckons her. The fear subsides when he opens the carriage door.

Led by the hand down dark, stone paths, no windows, no lights, only the slightest hint of moonlight from somewhere above.

She does not hesitate when he stops and turns toward her, the stone wall behind accepts her with force. His hand brushes her cheek softly. She closes her eyes as he looks deeply into them.

Her body trembles as he thrusts himself against her. An anxious sound leaves her lips. She opens her eyes to meet his, now blackened and angry.

His once handsome features twist into a snarl, his comforting voice growls in contempt as he forces her frail body still.

His warm, sweet breath turns hot and reeking as he covers her mouth to stifle her cries.

Her body stiffens with the fear of death as he un-sheaths the blade that will claim her. She tries to struggle but hard years have weakened her resolve.

She inhales deeply and closes her eyes once more. Cold washes through her as he slides the blade across her throat.

The moonlight reflects crimson as he removes his hand and allows her to fall. She slumps to the ground grasping for his coat. One step back and her fight is done. The life from her veins pours to the path.

She clutches and claws but the wound only bubbles and growls. Her last warm breath escapes into the night. Her body is limp when he kneels to admire her repose.

The snarl is gone, the black in his eyes diminished, in this silent moment a trace of pride appears in his profile. A sinister smile approaches his lips as he sets himself to finish his task.

He must be quick and disappear again. His heart races as he poses and cuts. Visions of the next and the next guide his hands with precision. He completes his depraved work of art and pauses briefly to speak...

“My dear lady, I thank you for an enchanted evening, I quite enjoyed your company. While our meeting was brief, I am certain that you and I are destined for the same eventual Hell. I shall remain Yours Truly until my moment arrives.”