Schrödinger's Kat

I'm walking on sunshine , wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
and don't it feel good!!

The unexpectedly upbeat lyrics resonated lightly throughout the crowded city streets, turning heads and garnering a well of attention from those passing by during their midday lunch break. For those special few who possessed either considerable height or a close proximity to the source of the cheerful aria emanating from a miniature boom box they would no doubt be able to spot an enigmatic figure clad in a sports suit which was itself an eye catching mixture of ivory and crimson with the words “Coca Cola” emblazoned across both the back and breast of the jacket. The ensemble was completed by a scarlet hat, bearing the same logo as the jacket, was perched somewhat jauntily across individual’s cranium as his head beat back and forth in time with the merry melody and the alabaster running shoes which encased his feet darted to and fro, allowing the man to hop, spin, slide and even moonwalk his way through the gradually increasing crowd with a smile across his face.

Slung over the abstruse characters left shoulder was an ashen oblong of modest size crafted from one of the many special polymers designed to reflect heat from the outside and maintain the lower temperature of the containers contents. It was in short, a cooler, one which was utterly lacking any and all identifying markings but which appeared to hold a rather impressive quantity of frosted glass coca cola bottles if the rate at which the stranger dispensed the carbonated drinks was any indication.

‘Ah the consumerist culture, what a marvel of modern capitalism; no one is ever satisfied these days they must always have more and even if they do not what precisely it is they desire they shall constantly seek it. Such behaviour has helped fueled the fickle economy by increasing the amount of tender flowing from one entity to another, however it has also facilitated the development the pure nature behind the capitalist model, namely, greed. It is a rather beneficial side effect and one which I intend to exploit fully, after all no one says no to a freebee do they?’

The denizens of the city were indeed loathe to refuse the caffeine enriched libations, although a good many of them were somewhat puzzled by the strangely generous behaviour. One glance at the strangers apparel however was often enough to dispel any suspicion and the precious few who did work up the energy to question the charitable gesture were happily informed that no, there was no catch and that Coca Cola simply wished to brighten people’s day.

‘Such utter drivel, the fact that these sheep devour it so willingly merely vindicates my actions’

Indeed there was more to Hull’s odd behaviour then pure benevolence, in fact had any of the ignorant pedestrians been at all familiar with the former soldier’s emblematic nature then, well, likely the primary reaction would have been hysteria and blind panic as the city’s citizens attempted to flee. Sadly though the sinister traveler had yet to achieve the appropriate level of notoriety required to inspire such a mass exodus on site, so instead the malevolent murderer utilized his anonymity to his advantage; distributing his own special blend of sweetened libations which included a secret ingredient he had obtained from a little place entitled King Pharmaceuticals only a few days prior.

Thallium; the poisoner’s poison. An absolutely inspiring element which the twisted killer viewed as the universes means of validating his own existence. The virulent chemical was highly lethal in small doses, possessed an incubation time of roughly twelve hours, was odorless, colourless and tasteless when dissolved within a liquid making it virtually undetectable when mixed in with, say, a soft drink. All in all it was perfect and the malicious killer could hardly wait to read the headlines in the morning papers over the next few days as afflicted individuals began to lose their hair, health and ultimately, life.

The lunch hour soon dawned to a close however and the streets lost their numbers as the inhabitants of the metropolis gradually returned to their places of work or residence and resumed whatever activities would consume the rest of their day. Upon finding himself without a crowd with which to dispense his wares the sadistic wanderer casually began to distance himself from the urban sprawl and towards central park, perhaps if he was lucky he’d come across a family or two enjoying a picnic or some other quaint little activity of no real consequence. The ex soldier always experienced a brief tinge of satisfaction whenever he managed to inhume an entire line, it was akin to setting a final puzzle piece in its place, the feeling of completeness and accomplishment accompanying the knowing that he had written the final chapter for such a lackluster lineage.

Upon finally arriving at his destination the demented wanderer found a sinister grin creeping across his features as his emerald gaze swept across the viridian blades of grass and caught site of multiple party’s basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Mothers, lovers, loners… a veritable plethora of unwitting victims, each waiting for the sweet sugary taste of death, but how to choose the fist target? Should he go with the mother daughter duo to his left or the passionate pair off to the right who seemed quite enthused with checking each others tonsils. Decisions, decisions, if only he had a coin with which to solve this troublesome predicament, such a pity, he’d simply have to do what came naturally.

Whistling a cheery tune the deranged traveler powered up his boom box once again before reattaching it to the Velcro strap on his free shoulder and turning to his left as his feet once more began to dart and dance, drawing smiles and laughter from some and perplexed expressions from others.

A short while later the sadistic slaughterer’s meandering course caused him to come across a somewhat curious sight. A blonde adolescent garbed in a pale yellow sundress which stretched to just below her knees and white open toed sandals which proudly displayed a pair of bare pink feet. In the child’s hands was an unruly collection of what appeared to be posters tucked under one arm and a roll of masking tape clutched firmly in her hand as she wondered from tree and gazed intently into the branches of each as though searching for some secrete hoard of fruit within the brown boughs. Judging from the girl’s expression and the number of dowdy poster adoring the surrounding trees however it was apparent that, thus far at least, her hunt had been largely unsuccessful. This in itself was not surprising, hundreds of pets were lost in the urban jungle each year, many of which were never seen again, indeed the odds of finding a domestic pet if it escaped it’s sheltered environment were exceedingly slim, verily one could almost call the child’s parents cruel for allowing her to cling to what little hope she…

‘Wait, what parents?’

The psychotic anarchist paused, hastily hiding the action by crouching down and retying his shoes as his viridian gaze swiftly swept the park, taking in all those present as he rapidly attempted to determine whether anyone were attached to the almost idyllic gamine no more than a few feet away. He himself was attracting a good deal of attention and thus there were a good few looks directed his way, however no one gave a glance to the girl in the yellow sundress, in short no one seemed to care. It was an injustice, Hull decided, for a minor to be left unsupervised in such a manner; children these days needed guidance, discipline and above all tender loving care, fortuitously the former soldier possessed each of these in spades… and the spades as well if it came to that, and it usually did.


Again adopting an artificial affectation of affability Hull assumed an idle walk as he approached the blonde haired child beneath the trees, casually placing his hand into the cooler at his right and withdrawing yet another chilled bottle of thallium enriched syrup which was cheerfully offered to the unwitting child.

“Hello there, are you here by yourself?”

*Blink*

…

“Wordy little thing aren’t you?” The words were uttered in a slightly perplexed tone from behind furrowed brows and a somewhat uncertain expression. It was not often that Hull found himself at a loss but when such an occasion arose the serial killer typically failed to react well; after all no one enjoys looking appearing foolish or unknowledgeable and that is especially true of the mentally unstable, however in this particular instance the twisted traveler was well and truly surprised by the adolescents waspish response. The sadistic slaughterer had possessed no inkling that the multinational conglomerate emblazoned across his flamboyant attire was engaged in such ignominious business, to be perfectly honest he didn’t really care, if anything it only served to improve his opinion of the world renowned corporation; granting him a warm sense of satisfaction to know that there others engaging in work similar to his own.

Although this new insight into coca cola’s operations deserved some degree of reflection the malicious anarchist found himself unable to tear his thoughts away from one fundamental aspect of the innocuous ingénue’s retort. An almost unspeakable phenomenon which shook the sinister wanderer down to his very core and struck the very foundations of one of his fondest childhood recollections. It was a development the Canadian killer was still having difficulty stomaching even a few seconds after his mind processed the distasteful fact and was likely the key reason the child hadn’t received some retaliatory measure.

‘…she doesn’t like coca cola.’

The thought was utterly abhorrent the malevolent machinator, as his chaotic consciousness repeatedly attempted to process the thought. How could one not enjoy the sickly saccharine nectar which was fit for the gods themselves? What fault could be found with the aerated atramentous product which had been the centerpiece to so many of the slaughterers fondest adolescent reminiscences before he had discovered the joy’s of alcohol? The notion was simply unnatural, obscene even and it was one which required a special blend of psychology and violence, preferably more of the latter than the former but the deranged traveler was willing to go with the flow and see what things led to.

Shifting his protean features the malicious murderer adopted a slight disgruntlement countenance as he sighed and crouched down to the child’s level in an effort level the mental playing field, sighing as he did so. “Look kid, I’m just trying to do my job so I can get something to eat at the end of the day, there’s not a lot of places I can work and this is one of the better one’s. Besides Coke ain’t the only one with a few shady dealings, I’ll bet you $10 that you’re sandals were made in some Asian sweatshop and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about those.”

Again altering his features the sadistic wanderer affirmed a genial expression as a benign smile overtook his lips and he nonchalantly balanced the elbow of his one free arm atop his knees, idly gesturing towards the bundle in the gamines slim arms. “However that is neither here or there, you avoided my question; are you here alone and furthermore what are looking for?”

Intense viridian orbs clashed with irritated ashen eyes as the deranged killer and impudent ingenue engaged in a silent staring contest, the latter impaitently tapping her foot and likely would have crossed her arms had her hands not been so over burdened while the former remained crouched, the glass container of toxic libation still cluthed firmly in one hand while the other came up to grasp his chin contemplatively.

'I should grow goatee,' The caprice materialized from one of the obscure corners of the twisted travelers mind even as another train of thought remained tightly focused upon his previous notion of violence and punishment. 'I really think I could pull it off, not like those brain addled meatbags from generation X.’ Running the pad of his thumb over his bare chin the malevolent wanderer narrowed his gaze ever so slightly as a frown shot across the guileless gamines features in response to his quip of sandals and sweatshops. As with any and all children her age the audacious adolescent was incredibly egostistical and thus getting under her skin was no real challenge, indeed it was almost pathetically easy, and while perhaps on a different day the sinister slaughterer would possibly find mild amusement in methodically destroying the gamines social decorum his current intentions were far more malicious. In order for things to progress however he needed to gain the child’s trust, at least temporarily.

'Then again they are rather cliché, I'd only be pandering to the popular prejudice of diabolical mastermind.’

“If you need money so desperately, you shouldn't gamble.”[/color]

There it was again, that insolent tone which so clearly communicated an utter lack of respect for one's elders. Has this asinine adolescent never been taught any form of social etiquette? Children were meant to speak and act courteously at all times... they also weren't meant to talk to strangers but that was besides the point. Even basic common sense would have sufficed in this particular instance e.g. you don't piss off someone twice your size, not unless you're really fast or have big friends nearby. From what the malicious murderer could see though the witless gamine possessed neither large acquaintances nor impressive speed if her choice of footwear were any indication. The bundles in her arm likewise would only serve to slow her down and even if she were to abandon her burden the action would still cost her a valuable second or so.

'On the other hand the negative connotations are rather outdated, not to mention trite, no one these days would expect any self respective criminal to wander around with goatee, so it could potentially work in my favour.'

"It ain't gambling when you know you're right." Hull offered a cheerful yet hubistic grin as he worded his response, finally lowering his free hand from his jaw to gesture towards the petite gamines sandals once again. "I've got a sister about your age, maybe a little younger, she's got those exact same sandals and got 'em real cheap, now considering it's a name brand the only way they could sell so low would be if they skimped on labour."

The sadistic anarchist was careful moderate both his language and tone; his current attire and actions cast him in the role of an uneducated male, one who, potentially, didn't even finish high school thus he limited his vocabulary to more simplistic and generic lexemes whilst maintaining the cheerful cadence of one who had seen the worst of life but naively believed things would be better if faced with a smile, if it happened to come across as arrogance then the former soldier would simply have to work around it as a sudden behavioral change at this point would arose the gamines suspicion and what he needed right now was trust.

‘But then I’d have to wait for it grow out and that takes time, there’s also the maintenance to consider, those things don’t just take care of themselves.’

“My cats, are neither here nor there. They are, in fact, lost and I am looking for them.”/color]

Hull sighed yet again as he lowered himself into a crossed legged position which put him below the insolent ingénue’s eye level, giving her the height advantage. A brief moment was then taken to shift the cooler by his side and adjust the miniature stereo on his shoulder, once certain that both items were arranged adequately the Canadian killer balanced an elbow upon his knee and once more grasped his chin with his hand as he leaned forward and stared intently at the child’s features once again, momentarily envisioning her with a black eye and broken nose before speaking in a positive yet incredulous tone. "Your looking for cats, on your own, in a city which looses over two hundred animals week and is full of muggers, murderers and other malicious individuals? Have I got that right?"

‘You know what, screw it, forget the goatee.’

Lowering his face into his hand Hull laughed lightly, his amusement stemming from a mixture of the adolescents callow naivety and his own good fortune. This was how horror stories began, you know the ones; they're shared at campfires, sleep over’s and other Halloween parties until, eventually, a more mild version of the tale is put in to use by parents in order to caution their children by pointing out the ignorance of others. In short, this was the kind of setting any psychotically inclined individual wished for, one which carried the potential for blood, pain and, ultimately, death.

Raising his emerald orbs from his hand the demented anarchist glanced briefly up at the gamines aggravated expression before allowing his gaze to flitter over to the crudely created posters to finally inspect the allegedly missing animals. The malevolent anarchists distorted mindscape had already construed a rather intuitive scheme the moment the asinine adolescent had mentioned her two strays, it required a leap of trust on the child’s part, however provided his next words were phrased correctly there would hopefully be little doubt in the ingénues mind on how to proceed.

“You know, I really should hand you over to the nearest police officer, let them take you down to the station and call your parents. I don’t really care how long you’ve had these two-” Hull’s free hand had once again been used in a gesturing motion, this time to place emphasis on his lack of concern for a pair of stray felines. As his viridian orbs swept over the two images before him though the sinister soldiers features assumed an expression of outright disbelief, “Well I’ll be damned that’s the godforsaken furry devil which tried to maul me a few minutes ago! Damn thing nearly clawed my pants to ribbons before it took off.”

Pausing suddenly Hull glanced back at the callow gamine before abruptly rising back to his full height, the unopened bottle of coke still clutched in one hand. Fixing the child with a resolute expression the malicious wanderer used his newly regained height to look down upon the youth before him as he spoke. “Alright, I’m fair guy so I’ll give you choice; either I drag you over to the nearest police officer and let them take you back home, or you let me help you find the bloody creature. I’ve already seen it and I know where it went, besides you’re too young to be looking on your own.”

Hull's face remained utterly somber as he silently watched and waited for the callow gamines response, inside however the twisted travaler was doing the equivalent of an asinine aureate victory pose. There was little doubt in the malicious wanderers mind that the conceited child would consent to following him throughout central park; he'd caught the hopeful expression which had flashed across her features when he'd claimed to have spotted one her contemptible creatures, verily children these days were far too naïve. They needed to be educated in the ways of world, taught that no matter how bad things seemed they could always get worse and, according to Murphy’s law, they usually did.

'What ever happened to the neighbourhood watch? Everybody looking out for everybody else, such an idyllic concept it, shame it hinged on people actually giving a crap about anyone besides themselves.'

As predicted, after another hubristic display of distaste made itself known upon the adolescents visage, the clueless little girl agreed to follow the Canadian killer throughout central park in hopes of locating one of her witless pets. The malicious marauder almost chuckled as he casually wasted a moment to dust down his flamboyant apparel; the ingénue’s anxiety was easily apparent to anyone who possessed even the slightest knowledge of human behavior and so the aberrant poisoner took no small amount of satisfaction from watching the child's impatience swiftly build upon itself. It was somewhat petty to be sure but that made it no less entertaining as the girls face gradually developed a crimson hue on par with that of his own garments. Sadly though he couldn't push her too far, not just yet anyways, so he abruptly the sinister wanderer straightened and cast his gaze about the park as though to get his bearings, in actuality however the former soldier was simply surveying his current audience, ensuring that no one had anything more than a passing interest in the blonde haired brat before him.

“Right, I was over that way when I ran into your little beast.” Hull deliberately gestured with the hand which still clutched the rejected bottled of coca cola indicating towards a heavily wooded area which, if taken, would convey the two of them to the upper right quadrant of the park, towards a modest body of water entitled Harlem Meer. “Stick close to me and don't go running off ahead, I don't want to lose sight of you.”

One of the many benefits of a photographic memory is that one is easily able to memorize any and all routes traveled or described. For a devoted anarchist this translated into learning the location and paths of every emergency service, power line, scrap yard/landfill and of course the sewer system. Considering the vast size of the city obtaining such data manually would have been quite the tedious task, conveniently however the government had already performed dreary legwork and so all it had taken was a single, somewhat prolonged, after hours visit to a government planning office to learn a collection of quite interesting facts; one of which was that the local sewer system had several access points running underneath central park near large bodies of water… such as Harlem Meer.

The only slight downside of the sinister slaughterers illicit topographical information was that the aforementioned access points had been rather vaguely mapped thus the former solider was forced to split his attention between keeping track of his young vict- charge, and searching for manholes. Fortuitously though he had no need to craft an explanation of his strange behavior as the dim witted child simply assumed the twisted traveler was searching for her stray pet. As the pair progressed through the sylvan area the trees began to cluster, shading the ground almost completely as they vied for the sun’s rays. Additional vegetation also began to prosper in the forms of bushes and shrubbery’s, all of which possessed quite a vivid array of blooms designed to contribute to the parks overall visual aesthetics, an unintentional consequence though was that the colorful verdure was precisely the right height to conceal certain blonde haired adolescents from view; a fact which proved to be most advantageous when Hull did at last locate one of the elusive manholes sequestered just a short distance from a memorial fountain.

A malevolent grin streaked across the malicious murderer’s features as he swiftly scanned the surroundings in search of any potential interruptions; police, parents, pets and any other pestiferous individuals. Lady luck however seemed to be in a favourable mood for the immediate area appeared to be abandoned, although the faint yapping of some canine or another could be heard somewhere off to the east just above the general background noise of birds and distant cars. Ordinarily one might be suspicious of such ideal conditions for a rather hastily concocted abduction, but then the deranged wanderer had learned over the years that one should never look a gift horse in the mouth, but should instead leap upon it and ride it to exhaustion before then possibly making use of the carcass for a light meal of some sort.

In any case now was not the time to delay.

“Psst! Over here!”

Crouched down furtively at the corner of the hedge which concealed the manhole Hull glanced expectantly at the imprudent ingénue who had briefly wandered away from his side to scout on her own. When he finally caught her eye the sadistic anarchist gestured impatiently with his free hand, indicating that the girl should join him as quickly and quietly as was possible. “I think I found the bugger, but I’d rather not wake him up, he’s already tried to maul me once already, so I’ll let you have the honours.”

Backing up slightly so that the ashen eyed child could take his place the foreign fiend waited until the gullible gamine had sneaked past him before rapidly rising the dejected soda bottle in his left hand while his right snake forward to grasp the child’s shoulder and hold her still as he brought the class container crashing down towards her skull.

Entering the sewer had actually proven to be somewhat more difficult than the former soldier had initially anticipated, it hadn’t been due to any lack of skill or strength on the anarchists part but rather the fact tha a manhole is built for just that; a man, a single individual, not one attempting to carry a comatose child over his shoulder. Still the issue had been solved easily enough when the guileless girl had slipped from her precarious perch on the sinister traveler and fallen the eight or so feet down the length of the shaft into the sewer system beneath. The landing had not sounded particularly graceful but malicious couldn’t have cared less really as he deftly placed the manhole cover back in its proper place and climbed down into the pitch black tunnel.

Many people these days do not truly comprehend what pitch black means, all too often they think of the night sky or possibly some trite media production where the main character stumbles around awkwardly in a cave yet is perfectly illuminated for the sake of the viewer. Neither of these perceptions is at all accurate for both include some form of luminescence, either natural or synthetic which permits one some degree of visibility. If a setting is truly pitch black though then it is akin to being blind, you would be unable to see anything other than inky obsidian, even your very hand would remain invisible no matter how close you brought it. Therefore whenever one wishes to tour a sewer system it is imperative that they bring one of the following: some form of torch or, alternatively, night vision goggles. Fortuitously, due to his own natural talents Hull possessed both items as well as a good deal more.

Upon reaching the somewhat soiled floor of the desolate tunnel the Canadian killer nonchalantly flexed his argent fingers and a mere split second later they were wrapped around an ashen coloured torch which immediately spilled light down the length of the passageway, revealing a rather intriguing design which featured a horizontal beam approximately two feet wide running across the width of the tunnel at roughly waist height. The walkways on either side of the tunnel were of course elevated and a cursory glance at the water stained channel in the centre of the adit divulged that the sewage level was somewhat lower than usual. A host of pipes and wires also ran across the upper section of the concave ceiling and deranged poisoner was pleased to note that at least one of the wires possessed electrical insulation which immediately opened up an entire host of new possibilities for his diminutive toy.

Speaking of which where had the brat gotten to? She’d been unconscious when she’d fallen and it was unlikely the impact had done anything to change that. A brief assessment of his surroundings revealed that the child had somehow managed to roll a short distance after landing and had actually come to a rest behind him, another brief moment was spent examining senseless gamine; deftly placing a hand against her throat and then lifting the lids of her eyes with surgical precision to test the reaction of pupils under the harsh light of the torch. A sadistic smile swiftly swept across the slaughters features as he confirmed that the contemptuous child had avoiding any form of serious brain damage and thus she would be completely responsive when she finally returned to the land of the living.

It was no fun playing with human vegetables after all.

A groggy moan abruptly escaped the injured ingénues lips and Hull swiftly cut off the power to the torch. The deranged wanderer was uncertain how the girl would react to his presence or whether she would possess the presence of mind to implicate him for her current predicament, the last thing he wanted at this stage was for the girl to run; for although he had memorized the layout of the sewer system it would still be all too easy to lose graceless gamine in the dark should she escape his visual range, thus he waited in silence and di his best to gauge the child’s response with his other senses.

Sound was really all he had to work with and as the former soldier focused upon his hearing he was gradually able to distinguish minute sounds of movement above the ambient melody of flowing of water. It wasn’t much, the faint noise of cloth scraping against stone, or the sharp gasps of breath as immature lungs repeatedly filled and emptied, yet it was more than enough to cause the sinister anarchist to grin malevolently. The child was scared, not yet panicked no, but the fear was there; the slight sense of terror which comes whenever one faces something unknown, add that to an instinctual fear of darkness that nearly all humans possessed and it was clear that the little slip of a girl was anything but calm.

“Who is there? Where am I?”[/color] The words were whispered softly, hesitantly and it was all Hull could do not to chuckle at the trembling tone in her voice. He’d originally hoped the brat would remain comatose for a while longer until he could properly secure her but toying with her in this state could still be fun, besides it would require less effort on his part if the child was able to follow him instead of having to carrying her. She would, he thought with amusement, become the proverbial lamb walking to her own slaughter

Barely a foot away from the arrogant adolescent the continuous flow of running water allowed Hull to utterly mask his approach as he cautiously crept closer and reached out a hand for where he believed the girl to be and silently arced it around so that his hand would face the back of her shoulder, he paused for a fraction of a second; listening for any clue that the girl was aware of her presence before he swiftly poked her shoulder and snaked his arm away just as a terror filled shriek reverberated within the desolate confines of the tunnel and the gamine all but jumped a foot into the air eliciting a muffled laugh from the malicious murderer which was more than covered by the girls ongoing scream.

“Hey kid! Kid calm down!”

Infusing a note concern and authority into his own voice to override his humour the former soldier nearly shouted his words as the terrified gamine practically ran into him. Reflexively bracing himself against the side of the wall Hull placed a foot behind him in order to steady himself as his other hand tried to get a grip on the panicked child. “God dammit stop screaming! You fell down an open manhole and we’re in the sewers, now I need you to calm down so we can get outta here ok?”

When was the last time he’d laughed so hard? Had it been when he’d released that pack of half starved dogs into the elementary school? No, not quite; maybe it had been when he’d flooded his high school science room with oxygen mere minutes ahead of the professors demonstration, the man had always complained about not possessing a tan you see. Then there was the time he’d trapped his CO at the bottom of a well during the rainy season, the asinine little man had asked for a rope yet failed to specify what it should be attached to... it had been immensely amusing to listen to his officers cries when the man had closed the grate of the well on top of himself as the water level steadily rose. And of course not to be forgotten was the time he’d managed to create his own version of Greek fire in a hospital just as they finished renovating their sprinkler system… heh, good times but still none had quite the same elements as this particular episode; he’d barely touched the brat but her reaction had been priceless, he’d have to get her to do it again.

Blinking silently in the utter darkness of the sewer the merciless murderers hand stretched outwards slightly, only to find that the spot the child had occupied a moment ago had been replaced with all too empty air. Needless to say this raised a few issues; primarily how had the kid managed to sneak off without making a sound? She’d been all but scared out of her wits less than ten seconds ago and now she was tiptoeing blindly down a sewer? An aggravated sigh left the sinister slaughters lips as his thumb hovered over the switch on his torch. ‘What happened to the good old days where little girls were nothing more than damsels in distress entirely incapable of independent thought or action? Guess I’ll just have to teach the brat a new meaning to women’s suffrage.’

With a flick of his thumb the cavernous depths of the onyx tunnel were once again illuminated throwing everything into sudden clarity as the light reflected off the filth encrusted walls and spilled over the obsidian currents below, inexplicably however the torches rays failed to reveal the blonde haired child who’d been thrown into the sewers depths mere minutes ago. Indeed the tunnel seemed utterly absent of life and viridian eyes blinked once again as the former soldier processed this unexpected conundrum. The brat was here somewhere, this much the anarchist was certain of, he’d held her not 30 seconds ago and the next nearest manhole was just over a mile away; there was no conceivable way the girl could have slipped without alerting him therefore rationality dictated that she’d simply run off beyond the lights reach. It was a most interesting reaction to be sure for it implied that the child had somehow managed to discern the wanderer’s malevolent nature and immediately attempted to flee.

Still there was no real cause for worry just yet, the Canadian killer had traversed these tunnels before, the path was fairly linear for some distance yet and filled with a myriad of obstacles which would no doubt slow the girl down and sap her energy, and when that ran out… well, the fun could begin in earnest, until then though there was a hunt to be had; he’d allow the child to run for now, exhaust herself building up some distance, grant her the illusion of hope just so he could have the pleasure of tearing it away. However, first things first, there appeared to be specks of crimson dotting the otherwise smoke coloured cement. Hull’s brow rose as he crouched down and swept his fingers through the scarlet streaks momentarily testing their consistency before a low, menacing chuckle ripped through his throat.

‘She even left me a trail to follow, looks like we’ll have a proper game of hare and hounds.’

Straightening up to his full height once more the former soldier shone his light directly down the length of the tunnel while his free hand summoned a somewhat worn yet razor sharp switchblade which slipped out of the handle with a highly metallic and audible *Schnick* as the malicious poisoner began to move forward at a pace which was faster than a walk but far from a run.


“The bleeding little girly tried to run away,
Ran-”

The murderer’s inane jingle came to end before it ever truly started as the rather solid sound of flesh colliding with concrete echoed dimly over the noise of the current below and female figure abruptly appeared out of thin air bent at the waist over one of the concrete pillars which stretched horizontally across the tunnel. For a split second Hull simply stared at the sight before him, his deranged mind not quite comprehending what had just occurred, a moment later however a pained groan from the girl before brought the sadistic slaughter back to the present, causing him to race forward and plant his forearm across the child’s back effectively pinning her down even as he brought his arm across the adolescents shaking neck and deftly cut off the girl’s air supply, remaining unyielding as gamines struggles momentarily grew in intensity before inevitably ceasing as darkness once again took hold of her.

Having already lost the brat once Hull possessed no desire to chase after her again, there were only so many hours in a day after all and he did have other things to do, thus the moment the child passed into unconsciousness the former soldier worked swiftly, moving with a practiced air as he deftly flipped the girl onto her stomach and shifted her comatose form so that she lay lengthwise across the concrete column. Precious seconds were then spent withdrawing and uncoiling bungee cords which were then used to secure the senseless child’s lower limps, hips and finally her arms which were locked above her head. Only once the adolescent had been firmly fastened to the makeshift table did the malevolent anarchists actions begin to slow down as he stepped away and examined his handiwork, momentarily testing the slack in the cords and reassuring himself that they were beyond the girls meager strength before then turning his attention to the lines of wires and pipes which ran across the roof of the tunnel.

A few renovations were in order.

It truly was amazing what a little rudimentary DIY knowledge could achieve in today’s world; technology could achieve wonders that would not even have been imagined half a century ago. Infrastructure alone had come leaps and bounds compared to what it was a mere decade ago, in spite of this though some things never change; politicians were still corrupt, famine continued to plague the world issue and sewers remained desolate walkways, traversed only by the downtrodden and the amoral. A fact which caused the anarchistic traveler no small amount of satisfaction as his venomous gaze traversed the filth stained walls revealed by the fractured beams of light emanating from the discarded torch atop the concrete bridge. A single glance told the malevolent murderer all he needed, the various grime and fauna adorning the concave walls only reached chest height; a dangerous level to be sure and one that indicated the city’s sewer system was beginning to strain under the sheer size of the population. Still such an issue wasn’t the poisoner’s problem, it would require a significant level of rainfall for the turpid tunnel to reach anything near capacity and the forecast had called for clear skies.

“Well now, what’s this?”

The twisted wanderers cadence conveyed a clear undercurrent of cheerfulness as his argent fingers summoned another illumination device and adroitly directed the new beam of light towards what could, at a stretch, be deemed the right corner of the tunnel. A moderately thick length of wiring appeared to run the entire length of the channel, at this particular section however a retarded rodent was doing its best to chew through the protective obsidian casing around the line, indeed the vulgar vermin was so set in its task that it took no heed of the light cast upon it, nor the malevolent slaughter as he silently approached with an expression of mild interest dancing across his sinister visage as he waited for the inevitable conclusion…

“Shocking.”

The datum was uttered in a tone of quotidian ennui which was completely at odds with the very meaning of the lexeme, indeed the very air which surrounded the malicious wanderer conveyed a sense of floccinaucinihilipilification directed towards the asinine rodent which now lay twitching upon the cool cement of the tunnel floor. The creature, upon closer inspection was also sporting what could, at length, be termed a bad hair day mixed with an aroma of charred flesh which was just barely distinguishable from the odious stench which permeated the sewer system which caused the deranged traveler to shake his head wearily as silver tipped fingers reached out.

“The Brain you are not, still there may be some use to you yet Pinky.”

…

As was previously mentioned a basic knowledge of DIY skills can do wonders for the intrinsic appeal of a location; electrical engineering in particular can do wonders in the correct setting, why with the right tools one can transform even a dilapidated sewer tunnel into a far more practical abode. Hull proceeded to do precisely that; working with nimble hands as he donned a pair of rubber gloves and carefully divided the copper wire into strands which were then haphazardly spliced into the wiring of an ashen power strip. Admittedly it was a somewhat perfunctory effort but the former soldier wasn’t seeking a standing ovation for his efforts, that could come later though, for now all the demented poisoner desired was access to an electrical outlet in order to utilize his more modern equipment.

The moment the cannibalized power strip indicated a power reading the inauspicious wanderer set to work conjuring items from his internal inventory in the manner of a macabre Mary Poppins; a soldering iron, carving pen and automatic drill were just a handful of the objects summoned and placed atop a stained metallic tray beside a slightly disfigured yet malleable floor lamp which was soon twisted and arced until its rays rained downed upon the restrained female form on the impromptu operating table. Shadows danced for a brief moment as light battled against shadows and threw into sudden clarity the pale yellow of the adolescent’s sundress which reached down to just below her knees and blended almost seamlessly with the child’s blonde locks which fell to the middle of her back. Apart from that single item of apparel the girl was completely bare, the alabaster sandals which had previously encased the gamines feet had been removed and discarded when the vindictive traveler had first bound his victims limbs.

“Nhn?”[/color]

Hull’s head snapped upwards and twisted to glance over his shoulder as the mumbled moan reached his keen ears; it seemed his plaything was finally beginning to stir. The former soldier remained hunched over his tools a moment longer, absently rearranging the devices into a more convenient order and placed the metallic tray at the edge of the walkway before abruptly leaping feet first into the flowing current of raw sewage, an act which likely would have left an uninformed audience wondering about the man’s sanity, Hull however had no such concerns; he’d long since ceased any attempts to describe his thought processes by so called “conventional” means and additionally it had been over ten years since he’d last suffered from any kind of illness and thus, rightly or wrongly, the twisted traveler had arrived at the conclusion that his mutation somehow made him immune to such ailments.

“Ah, welcome back, did you enjoy your nap? I would have woken you sooner but I didn’t want to leave you waiting as I got everything ready. Don’t worry though, the fun shall begin shortly.”

The statement was issued in the all too friendly tone of one who is about to significantly enjoy themselves at another’s expense, normally such a cadence would be a clear tocsin to any within earshot of the issuers ill intent, however in Hull’s case the words were not a warning but a promise, a statement of fact which only served to supplement the sinister ambience of the sewer system turned torture chamber.

Standing up to his shins in raw sewage the malicious anarchist was pleasantly surprised to find that the concrete bridge and impromptu table came to just below his ribcage, allowing him a greater freedom of movement that he had originally anticipated as he bent over the supine child and gave her bonds a cursory tug to assure himself of their effectiveness, the former soldier may have been twisted and sadistic but he was rarely careless when it came to activities such as these. He’d already had to chase the child down once after all and he was in no mood to do so again anytime soon. There was, coincidentally, an ulterior motive to such an action; for as the truculent traveler leaned over to test the adolescents restraints his lips came within close proximity of the girls ear allowing him to whisper forth an introduction in a soft intimate tone which had absolutely no place in such a setting.

“Now then my dear, before we begin I’d like to get your name. My own is not important but for…posterity’s sake, it would be, helpful, to have yours… do you understand?”

When the trembling child failed to respond immediately the slaughter’s demeanor instantly shifted; the polite visage abandoned for one of implacable impatience as he drew his viridian eyes down to stare into the girls own ashen orbs with a sinister sneer on his features even as his right hand stretched out towards the metallic off to the side and deftly retrieved the tan soldering iron from its spiral sheath and firmly brought the device down upon the gamines bound hand, leaving it there for a count of five, utterly unmoved by the child’s futile protests as she vainly attempted to withdraw her limb. When at last the soldering iron was replaced the malevolent torturer drew in a breath and produced a handkerchief from thin air and deftly wiped away the adolescents tears with the softest of strokes before continuing.

“I hadn’t intended to use that quite so soon, but I’m afraid you forced my hand, tsk tsk, not getting off to a very good start are we? Let’s try that again shall we puppet? What is your name?”

This time the response was delivered promptly, or what could pass for promptly in between the shuddering breaths which rocked the child’s fragile frame and Hull grinned viciously for they’d barely even started, still there was a part to be played and he couldn’t have the girl abandon all hope just yet, so instead the sadistic wanderer knelt back down into the adolescents view and offered her a simple grin. “A very charming name, I shall do my best to remember it. Now though, it’s time to begin.”

Straightening up once again the former soldier took his time selecting a tool from the tray on his right, argent fingers trailed delicately along across handles and along blades as the sinister anarchist ensured that each item rattled audibly within the confines of cave, for although the child could not see the implements he was about to use she could most certainly hear and often times a child’s imagination could work to craft a terror even he would be hard pressed to match. At length though the twisted traveler selected a utility knife from the collection before leaning back over shivering girl and sweeping a hand lightly up her back, gently parting her blonde hair so that it fell on either side of shoulder instead of covering them. The sight which met the murderers emerald gaze however was not what he had expected for a scarlet trail of partially dried blood extended down from somewhere on the back of the adolescents head to her shoulder blades.

“Oh no, this won’t do, I won’t be able to see what I’m doing, ah well least said soonest mended.”

And with that remorseless remark the Canadian killer swept up the entirety of the gamines golden locks in one hand and roughly pulled the girls hair as high as her neck would allow while his other hand meanwhile extended the length of the utility knife and haphazardly slicing through the aureate strands in a short choppy motion which left the child with less than two inches at the back of her head and a rather significant collection of locks in the former soldiers left hand which were idly released and allowed to drift down and join the rest of city sewage flowing below.

A wet cloth was then applied to the back of the adolescents neck and swept smoothly up to the base of her head and then down to her shoulder blades where it paused briefly, allowing water to pool slightly and trail down the length of the child’s spine. Then there was a barely audible click as the utility knife was retracted to a more suitable length and an instant later cold steel scratched ever so slightly against the soft skin of the girl’s back a hairs breadth above the sundress where it swiftly danced left and then right; easily severing the straps on each shoulder before then returning to the middle of the girls back and swept southwards, effortlessly slicing through the lightweight material as the blade trailed down to the base of the adolescents back.

The meddlesome material was then brushed to either side and the child’s upper under garment dismissed in a similar manner so that nothing was left between the skin on the girls back and the blade in the slaughterers hand except for open air, and even that did not last long as the former soldier brought his knife to bear against the gamines pale skin directly above her right shoulder blade, piercing the skin ever so slightly as a trickle of blood welled up from the wound where the blade was poised.

“Tell me Katrina, do you know why you’re here?”