the air was sharp in her lungs. the darkness felt heavy on her skin. she stared at the library surrounded by police cars, the sirens sounding down the street. a cat was meowing in the alleyway besides her. they lifted the dead body out into the ambulance. it was the fifth one that day.
she was hunting her down. the one that was killing. she knew her name. it was the one that was whispered by the police officers, talked about by the hushed scared voices in the office buildings. the one advertised by the newspapers in bold print and scared scribbles. the name that echoed in her head, that hid, deep down in the shadows of her soul. it creeped up and down her consciousness, rode in her mind in waves. the name was always there.
Nemiah. Nemiah. Nemiah.