She noticed him as he stepped off the train, just 2 carriages along from where she had sat for the duration of the journey; she knew he had definitely noticed her...He looked her up and down, attempted eye contact...She looked away nervously and started to walk, quickening her step as she went.
He followed, attempting to look nonchalant about it, she knew he would, her pulse began to race a little and a slight ripple of fear licked all the way down from the base of her skull to the hollow at the foot of her spine. His eyes darted around as his gaze scanned the nearby street signs; She wasn't fooled in the slightest, she knew it was a ruse designed to set her at ease, lower her defences. She recognised the signs of a sociopathic predator, after all that was her job, that was why Quantico had headhunted her and offered her the big bucks. She was good at what she did, that keen instinct was second to none.
She knew the next step by rote, she had explained it to new, fresh-faced recruits thousands of times in her five year career. She must respond in kind, attempt to make him believe that she was at ease and look unthreatened, this way she bought valuable thinking time to devise an exit strategy. How was she gonna play this? Think...think...think, the thoughts in her head were deafening right now.
She crossed the road trying to look at ease, but she didn't quite carry it off, even from 70 feet away, she felt his demeanor change. The sound of wind rushed in her ears, though the night was relatively calm. She took out her phone, she knew full well the battery had drained while she was talking to one of the other professors from the agency during her train journey, but she fingered the buttons.
"Hey Doug...I'm almost home, fix me a drink" she said the words a little too loudly and maybe with a hint too much bravado. She felt a palpable thrumming in her chest and she knew her heart was feeling the same heightened awareness that every other cell in her body was right now...Again she picked up her step, tripping slightly, but recovering, she heard the brisk, increase of the footsteps behind her.
This is it, she thought. her mind raced, her senses reeled, her training came into sharp focus then disappeared over and over again. She could hear the breathing behind her now, thirty feet she estimated. An excited rasp had crept in, she knew he sensed blood. She quickened her step once more almost breaking into a run, she knew all pretense had melted away now. There was an alleyway a few feet ahead, she decided in a split second to duck down it and plan her next move carefully a change in impetus may throw him off kilter. His mind would be travelling along two parallel routes simultaneously right now. He would either be thrown by her next reckless step or decide this was the darkened pavement where he would silence his blood-lust and she would cease to be.
Twenty feet...She sprang into action with the reflexes of a cobra and darted around the corner, hoping to buy herself a few precious seconds, seconds that could potentially mean the difference between life and death. She heard a shocked, almost startled cry escape her pursuers lips. His feet struck the cold, hard pavement with an intensity she had not envisaged, his reflexes were sharp and undoubtedly heightened beyond those of most people.
Ten feet...She realised she had underestimated his athletic ability, this one had a warrior-like savagery, her life began to flick through her minds-eye she cursed herself out loud and demanded her mind to focus. She had read hundreds, no, thousands of case-studies and she instinctively knew this was the precise moment that many victims consciously gave up. They actively decided that they were about to be overpowered and robbed, raped or worse, they then, turned around as if the fear of not knowing who or what was behind them was the most terrifying part, almost as though a morbid curiosity would be their real undoing. Intuition and personal knowledge told her this was only ever going to be about the latter of the three potential fates.
FIVE FEET...She thought about all those classes on fight or flight response...As if that was even a real decision. Her breathing was furious and ragged now, she realised that this would last only seconds longer...
She half-dived, half rolled into an almost impossible manoeuvre , grabbing the side of a dissecting alleyway wall with her left hand and took a tight, breakneck turn. Who knew the daily yoga she practiced would be her last hope in a battle for her very life?
His shock dissipated almost instantly, he leapt through the air and sprang at her. An insane giggle escaped his twisted mouth, he felt glee, electricity and anticipation all at once. He misjudged and deflected off the wheel and hit the ground but sprang back to his feet in one fluid, terrifying motion.
For a fraction of a second he could not see her, his frenzy for blood, tears and pleading must be satiated NOW!
"What the f..."
She traced the aptly named cutthroat razor across the soft tissue of his neck in a single, satisfying slash.
The look of confusion and abject horror on his face was priceless, this was always Ruth's favourite part, always had been, ever since she was 12 years old. Sometimes the press called her a vigilante sometimes her work was misattributed to gangs, sometimes they actually referred to her as the serial killer!
But she knew that she performed the ultimate public service and she was not squeamish about due-process, trial by your peers or any of that garbage designed by evil, corrupt men to let other evil, corrupt men out to re-offend via the back door. She had never killed the wrong man yet, her job allowed her to find and solve the cases and exact judgement and punishment, they found that retribution is swift and brutal.
As always, after carrying out a judgement she took out the photo of her Mother and kissed it. Her Mother, taken so brutally when Ruth was just 11 years old...14 months later he was dead, the first of 37 unsolved murders across 26 different states.
