Cold Vengeance

He arrived in Dundee on a dark and dismal October night and slipped quietly out of the railway station. No one noticed him. No one ever did.

That had been six months ago; six months of rest and regeneration during which his mission in this town was not yet clear and the voice was silent. But his faith never wavered. He knew there must be a mission. There had to be a reason for being guided to this place.

Now, at last, he could feel the restlessness that signified the time was almost here. It would not be long before his mission was clarified.

As the days passed the restlessness increased; his body grew hot and his skin itched, as if there were insects burrowing below his flesh, eating him from the inside.

But still the voice was silent.

He followed several women but it soon became obvious they were not evil, only silly or misguided. Then he found this one. But although he had followed her every day for the past week and hoped she would be the one, he was unsure, because the voice was silent.

Tonight, after leaving the department store from the back entrance in the alley, she walked confidently towards the street, unaware she was being watched.

He waited until she reached the street, then rose from the depths of his secret hiding place and followed her.

Her house was empty. No husband waiting tonight. It would be easy to complete his mission. But the voice had still not spoken to confirm that she was the chosen one.

He followed her again when she left the house later that evening. He watched as she visited the man. He heard the argument and saw the despair in the man’s face when she left. And he was there at the end. At the killing time.

And he knew that if it were not for the woman, the man would not be dead.

That was when he knew she had to be the chosen one.