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The taste of the city was thick in the air, the stink from so many bodies in such close proximity, the tang of noxious fumes from so many cars and even the faintest hint of something else, something unique to the pit of filth that was Santa Somabra or so Atticus mused as he stood gazing over the sprawling cityscape that lay before him. The wind pulled and buffeted his clothing as he waited, lingering in the twilight like an unseen spectre with malicious intent. 

He glanced down at the glowing screen of the cheap cell phone he had purchased, the time staring him back as it clicked from 20:32 to 20:33. She would be arriving at any moment he was sure, as she did each night after working a long and lengthy day. It bemused him how everyone always followed such predictable patterns and routines, only occasionally varying from what they had become familiar with. A woman who woke early and went jogging, each weekend going to a local gym to exercise and keep her youthful body in shape, a woman who excelled in finding her way into relationships with people in powerful positions or families who wouldn't want to know about her. She would finish her ‘work’ at about 20:00 and spend about 40 minutes making her way home, stopping for a coffee and a bite to eat from one of those god-awful chain coffee shops. Atticus reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly battered packet of cigarettes, slowly and deliberately pulling one from the pack and bringing it to his lips. He thought briefly about the day he had first seen her, arguing on the phone with someone about money to keep her quiet. That was what had grabbed his attention to begin with, but in truth he had targeted her because Kitiara had told him to. She didn't like the way the woman dressed, how she held herself and how she dealt with those around her. The more they had learned about her life the more that the decision to make her his next project had been justified. 

“I thought you wanted to cut back?” came the soft voice of Kitiara from beside him, bringing his mind back to the present. She was wearing a dark and flowing red dress that complimented her figure, her blonde hair curled elegantly just how it had been that night. She was stunning and the relative gloom of their surroundings only served to contrast against her beauty and make her look all the more flawless to him. 

Turning his head slightly Atticus smirked and responded “You know that I only smoke when I need to. Why else would someone be stood outside of an apartment block so late at night?” their eyes met for a moment and the familiar spark of electricity shot between them, the relationship between the two being stronger than ever. 

Kitiara returned his smirk and pulled the silver lighter from his pocket as she pressed her body against his half embracing him slightly before holding it up and lighting his cigarette for him. She slipped the lighter back into his pocket, grazing her hand sensually against his leg for a moment as she did so before she responded “Perhaps because they are waiting for a whore and they don’t have a key for the building?” 

He raised his eyebrows at her response and was about to retort when he noticed the familiar silhouetted figure of Anica Hironaka making her way towards the apartment building. Slipping back into the guise of a cold lonely smoker he shivered and coughed as he inhaled deeply once more before exhaling a large cloud of smoke into the evening air. The woman of course took no notice of him as she passed by and unlocked the door into the building and made her way brusquely through, people never did seem to take too much notice. After all he was just another person like everyone else, why should he be different from the numerous other people she had passed by tonight. Dropping the cigarette Atticus moved swiftly and with a slight lunge he stopped the door from closing with his foot, waiting for a few more moments as he knew she would be making her way up the stairwell and towards her apartment. Moments later he slipped into the building before slowly making his own way up the stairs towards the floor with her apartment moving with a deliberate steady grace. 

The ground floor of the building was stereotypically fetid and rundown, several unpleasant smells reaching his nose as he made his way up. It took relatively little time for him to reach the eighth floor, just as he did he heard the sound of a door closing on the landing before him as the woman made her way into the assumed safety of her home. However he was already familiar with the inside of her apartment, or rather the view of it from when observed through binoculars from the building across the street. He had been watching her for some time now, a woman who liked to have frequent sexual encounters with different men he had learned, a woman who exploited those around her and more importantly a woman who had attracted Atticus's attention through her actions. She always had a shower when she got home he had come to learn, washing the grime and filth of another days labour from her body like some nightly ritual, he didn't blame her with what she did. He wondered briefly if she thought she was a good person, if she justified what she did or if she simply didn’t care and focused on the money. Pressing his ear to the apartment door he couldn’t help but smirk once more as he realised he could ask her soon enough, the sound of music blaring through the painted wood reaching him as he pulled on a pair of dark gloves and prepared himself for what was to come, Kitiara shooting him a flirtatious wink from beside him. 

He had watched this woman time and time again arrive home before fiddling with her stereo and removing her clothes and going through into the bathroom. It was curious he thought as he waited a little longer, why these people didn’t close their curtains more often or change their routines occasionally - it was all but a happy mystery to him. Dismissing the thought he pulled out a small tool, an electronic lockpick that he had picked up quite time ago from one of his earlier projects. It drilled its way through the majority of locks in under thirty seconds, even quicker for cheaper locks like this one. With a tell-tale click the door opened and Atticus took one moment to pocket the tool before removing a small syringe and slowly making his way into the room. It contained a dark yellow liquid, a strong tranquiliser that was derived from one of the key components of fairy dust, its effects would make anyone slip into a deep coma for at least two hours or so and have euphoric and wild dreams whilst remaining completely still and easy to handle. It was one of his finest creations, though it did require him to deal with undesirables in order to acquire the drug he needed to make it 

Never before had things been so easy, music blaring, no chain or other locks and she was already in the shower with the doorway only slightly ajar. It almost seemed inexcusable to him that someone living in Santa Somabra, especially such a vulnerable woman with so many potential enemies would be so careless with their safety and security. But then again no-one expected to be stalked by someone as detailed and thorough as he was.

Closing the door behind him he took a brief moment to ensure that it closed properly even with the damaged lock and wouldn’t drift open on its own before wedging himself quietly behind the bathroom door and waiting to strike like a deadly coiled cobra from the shadows. Atticus waited and endured the terrible droning of whatever was playing as he listened to the sound of her showering, counting roughly in his head as he did. Her showers were fairly quick, usually between 8-10 minutes before she would emerge with a towel wrapped around her before sprawling out on the bed. 

His heart pounded and he could practically taste the anticipation in the air, his eyes fixed at the point she would appear. Soon enough he heard the water stop as Anica finished, moments later making her way into the room as she tussled her dripping dark hair and moved past him only inches away. She was of course completely naked and her dark tanned skin glistened with moisture, her body was slim and somewhat toned, very appealing to look at if you were interested in such things. Atticus spent one brief moment eyeing the supple shape of her buttocks as he emerged from his hiding spot and in one fast and deliberate action he stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her head as he clasped a gloved hand over her mouth with a sharp jerk. He expected her reaction, the startled woman trying to scream and thrash out as soon as she realised what was happening, everyone's natural response being the same and just as futile once he had struck. As she thrashed against his unmoving form, struggling and kicking at him with everything she had he quickly plunged the needle into her neck before squeezing the deep amber substance into her veins. The response was almost instant as she soon went limp in his arms and her struggling ceased as Kitiara emerged from the bathroom with a soft smile covering her face. 

"Finally" she said softly "I hope you're looking forwards to this as much as I am, my love". Laying the unmoving woman out on the bed he walked over and pulled the curtains closed quickly before turning and rubbing his hands together with a smile. He made his way to Kitiara before he gently pulled her into his embrace before he kissed her passionately for a few moments, the two savouring in the success of another coming kill.