Night had fallen a long time back. Traffic continued unabated and the light and sound show of the vehicles on the road made strange designs on the curtains. Noel woke up muttering under his breath. It took a while for him to get his bearings.
He checked his watch and saw that it was past 11 PM. He went to the bathroom. The smell of dried blood was unmistakable. He had shaved earlier that evening and cut himself in the process but had forgotten to wash his razor where some blood had attached itself.
He washed his face and hair and stood upright. 12 years of jail did nothing to temper Noel’s killer instincts. Where others would be put-off at the smell of blood, he was nostalgic. Memories of the last kill he had made was still fresh. The adrenaline rush when he made each kill was a surprise even to him. He knew he had to indulge in another serial-killing soon. This time, he did not want to get caught. He would go solo so no one would get a chance to rat him out to the police.
The night was still inviting when Noel stepped out. The moon hid behind the clouds seemingly at his ominous presence on the streets. He slickly hid his dagger in his coat and walked, a cruel smile lining the contours of his face.
I’m taking part in the Write Tribe ProBlogger Challenge. The prompt for Day 2 is ‘Nostalgic’.