The night was black. Heavy clouds blanketed the sky. A cold rain splattered on the dark pavement, as a thick fog rolled in from the ocean. The street lights above her head flickered in time with the lightning flashes.

It had been a cold, miserable day, one that Charlene wouldn’t soon forget, and it was turning into a cold, terrifying night. Charlene was a blue-eyed, blond, tall and slender, with a quick intellect and a sparkling sense of humor. Charlene was also deathly afraid. All day she felt like she was being watched. The watcher hated her–she could feel it.

I wish I’d had the brains and the money to get a cab. Charlene muttered to herself as the wind whipped her raincoat, then turned her umbrella inside out. Without thinking, she opened her hand and let the rainbow-colored umbrella fly away.

The sense of being watched increased. Quickly, she whipped around. The road behind her was empty; desolately, frighteningly empty. It should have made her feel better but all it did was make her feel alone. Hang in there, Charlene, she told herself, you only have two more blocks and you’ll be home.

Then, she remembered the letters and the pictures–those awful pictures. After taking one more glance behind her, she began to run, letting the wind, pushing from behind, increase her speed. Her breath came in gasps. Her heart was pounding as she slipped the key into the lock. She took a deep breath and sighed, “Home. I’m safe.”

Her terror magnified when she heard a soft foot step behind her. As she turned to face her attacker, the gloved hands closed around her long, slim neck.

As she gasped for air, his soft laugh mingled with the wind.