John fixed his hair, again for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. His eyes kept glancing to the clock, couting seconds, stressing over his outfit. It was Halloween, and his costume was simple enough, Jack Crawford from The Silence of the lambs, nothing too inventive and new. He had other, more important things to focus.
He glanced at the newspaper.
''Will trick-or-murderer strike again?!'' the headline read, and John grunted. The papers needed more creative people, their nicknames became more and more stupid.
The doorbell rang and his heart leapt in his chest. He exhaled, nodded at his image in the mirror for the last time and opened the door.
Claire was beautiful. Her Clarice Starling outfit from the same film suited her perfectly, that inteligent glint in her eyes complimented the costume beautifully. John complimented her, little smugly. He'd been dropping hints about this costume for her for months.
The party they went to was wild, loud and full of obnoxios people. Claire danced and drunk all throughout the night, and John lingered in the corner waiting for her. He loved Halloween, adored the mistyc mixture of creepy and funny ever since he was a child. The holiday was his parents favourite and had special part in his heart, memories of how they hid together and scared trick-or-treaters.
John, however, hated parties. Hated people mashing together, pushing against each other, laughing loudly, sloshing drinks around. Someone already spilled a drink on his suit and no matter how hard he rubbed he couldn't clean it. He implored Claire to go back and get changed, he had the exact same suit in his closet, but she brushed him off, continuing to party.
So John waited, patient, untill she reached for him and they stepped out. She was swaying on her feet and John felt mad.
Claire's costume was stained, her perfect hair in disarray; make-up smugded. Not an image of the perfect she was earlier, the way he'd imagined she'd be.
She was too drunk to notice they've entered his basement, and only asked about the reason they were there once John sat her down. He couldn't answer her question, he needed to clean her up. John removed the smudges of make up under her eyes, fixed her hair and tried to wipe away the stain from her clothes. He rubbed and rubbed but it wouldn't budge.
''John!'' Clair shouted and finally John's eyes snapped at hers. Silent fury glinted in his eyes.
''You stupid! I told you to watch yourself. You've ruined everything!''
Claire's eyes widened in fear as John stomped around the room, his hands messing up his hair, chanting: ''Everything is ruined, everything is ruined.''
Claire leapt for the stairs, John held her back, growing madder by the second. She trashed around, her screamed and wails echoing in the small room. At last, John trew her to the wall and she'd hit her head, blood spillinf from her forghead and onto her blouse.
John's beautifull plan now impossible to be carried on, he picked up on the knives he'd laid out before and ended her screams, stabbing her multiple times, wanting to get revenge. How dare she?! He wanted her to be special, her thought about everything. John couldn't control himself, not even the warmth of her blood on his face could calm his rage. He wanted to play with her, to dance, to chase around; he'd prepared everything!
She'd ruined everything.
Unsatisfied, John stormed outside of the basement, out in the streets, seaching for the outlet.
Next morning, the paper read:
''Several girls found horrificly disfigrured in several locations across town. Police has joing forces and is determent to find the mad man now known asThe Halloween slayer!''
John fixed his tie, and smiled.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
