Violet Lips (Coming soon)

|Prologue|

An exquisite shade of violet painted her lips.

He could imagine what her screams would sound like as the beating of her heart died under his grip. He could just imagine it, and he was ready.

Somehow, these unsuspecting women thought it safe to walk alone at night-- hadn't they learned enough from the newspaper headlines blaring about rape and murder? Her heels tapped on the cement as she passed by his hiding spot, the sound a steady beat. He could smell the faint perfume wafting from her body. It was too much for him; it was driving him crazy.

"Stop!" He rasped.

The woman looked behind herself in fright, her nostrils flared as she quickened her pace. She clutched her purse tightly against her chest and trained her eyes at the ground. The woman whipped her head back and he could almost swear she could see him in his hiding spot. She suddenly broke into a run. Her golden curls bobbed behind her, slowly unwrapping from the bun that had held them in place.

"Stop! I told you to stop!"

The man burst out from behind the garbage bin, an aroma of rot following him, and ran behind her, dropping to his knees as his heart pulsed in his chest. "Excuse me!" He lifted a tired arm above his head. "You dropped this!" He waved a five dollar bill in his fingers. She should have known no such thing was missing from her purse, but she stopped and turned around anyway. A smile formed across her face, softening her features.

She walked towards him and reached out a hand. "Thank you, sir." He lunged for her just as she grabbed the money from him and twisted her arm behind her. Her bag flew from her delicate fingers and landed on the floor, the objects scattering across the dark alley. She screamed, the sound echoing in the dark. A lamp flickered above them as he shoved his hand across her face. "Shut up!"

Tears ran down her cheeks as she squirmed in his grip. She picked up a foot and rammed it into his groin, the heel of her shoe boring a hole into his slacks. He groaned and let go, realizing too late that it gave her the chance to run. As he lifted his head, he saw the fleeting figure in white round the corner.

He sighed and bent over the bag she had left behind. He picked it up and fished through it. Madeline Trinh-- so that was her name. She might have gotten away this time but he had her ID now.

Madeline Trinh was not safe and never would be.