The stranger wore casual attire, with a white blazer and black jacket. I assumed it was a man, but there was no way to be sure. The only thing I knew was that that stranger wanted me dead.1

As the person approached me the corners of their mouth curled up into an evil grin. They had me cornered against the dead end of an alley way. I wanted to scream but as I opened my mouth... Nothing... Not even a squeak...2

Suddenly, the stranger spoke "Wildwolf, I knew you would be here. This is such a typical hiding place, only you would choose it. Don't worry though, this will all be over soon..." the stranger lifted a silhouetted weapon and I fell to my knees.3

I had to get out of there. This person was going to kill me! I didn't want to die tonight. My mind raced. The stranger stepped closer; his weapon gleamed in the flecks of moon light that fell from the roof tops beside us. I had to get out. I knew what I had to do. 4

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Terror was surging through me; my heart pumping adrenaline through my veins so quickly it made my head spin. For a moment I considered my options and the things around me. My watch... a useless thing here. He wasn't here for jewels and riches, he was here for me and only me; and I knew this person was a he, the voice being far too deep for any woman. I had my cell phone but the battery had died almost an hour ago now. 6

I knew what I had to do. My only option was to talk my way out of this-if I could. If this person wanted me dead without a doubt, there was no hope, but if I could convince him to wait a little longer before killing me if he was stupid, but this was premeditated, he had planned on this, he had taken the time to figure out where I would run and hide, therefore I doubted there was much hope for me. 7

"Any last words?" My soon to be killer asked.8

The gravel was digging into my knees but I could not stand for the fear that was pulling me down. "WHy are you doing this?!" I screamed. Get him talking, stall time; that was my plan. But I didn't expect the laugh that followed my question and my heart nearly stopped with that bitter sound.9

Last words, not last questions, Wildwolf."10

"Oh God..." I didn't know how I was going to survive this.11

"Last rites? Oh how perfect. Shall I act as your priest?" His words stunned me and struck fear more deeply within my bones. "C'mon Wildwolf, you're more creative than that. What do you really want to say before you die?"12

"You're taunting me." I mumbled in disbelief. Before he could laugh, I continued, "I'm to be taunted and laughed at before I die?" I was in complete disbelief, almost to the point of denial now. He was laughing again and I didn't know what to do. "Why are you laughing?!" I finally demanded loudly.13

"Because you are so pitiful and helpless and I love it!" I was in tears now, but then I realized he had answered my question. If I could keep him thinking I wa spitiful and helpless, that there was no choice but to die, keep his mind on the immoral humor he saw in my situation, I might be able to escape. I let the tears I had been fighting flow.14

"I-I...don't deserve to die. Why are you doing this to me? Why do you taunt me so much-why does my greif bring you joy?"15

"I despise you, Wildwolf." He spoke.16

"What have I ever done to you?!"17

"What have you not done? Liar, cheater, theif...Christian." There it was. This was a hate crime against, not me, but Christians. I remembered seeing in the news a few weeks ago, a new serial killer that seemed to be targeting Christian women. My stomach did an angry and sickened flip. If this was that man...I almost gagged on the thoughts that began entering my mind. The women he took weren't simply killed, they were brutally killed. Suddenly I took a closer look at his weapon; it was a long knife, silver and glinting in the moonlight. He WAS the serial killer I'd heard of. It was said that he used his knife to carve the cross into the victim's chest, right below her neck. Then he gauged out her eyes, cut out her tongue and finally, sawed off her ears. Psychologists said it was his way of following the old saying "See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil."18

"Oh my God..." I said again. "You're...you're him. You're the one who's been killing all those Christian women..."19

A look of surprise crossed his face and he remained quiet for a few moments before a small smile, a menacing and mirthless smile, touched the corners of his mouth. He began clapping his hands together, slowly. "Well done, Wildwolf. You're smarter than I had you figured for." And with those words, he took a step towards me. My heart lurched into my throat and I thought fast.20

"Why'd you do it?" I said abruptly. He paused, his eyes glimmering with hate.21

"That's none of your business." He finally grumbled, taking another step towards me.22

"But there must have been a reason!" I spoke quickly. He paused again. "A reason, right? You pick Christians...women Christians, so there must be a reason as to why you chooose them specifically." I was speed talking, possibly speaking quicker than I had ever spoken before. But I had his attention, he was listening. 23

"Yes," He said slowly, achingly slow.  "There is a reason."24

"What is it?" My voice had slowed as well, barely a whisper now. "A Christian woman who hurt you, perhaps?" Suddenly his head jerked up and I knew I'd asked the wrong thing, brought to mind some memory that stung him. With a shout he lunged at me. A scream was lodged in my throat but I couldn't speak, not with his hand wrapped tightly around my throat. He pinned me against the wall, leaning so close, so very close...I felt shattered, so scared that I was no longer aware of anything but my fear. Aware of him who was my fear.25

"You don't speak of that!" He was right by my ear, his breath searing my skin. "My mother is none of your business, my life is NONE of your busininess!" He was shouting and I could only pray that someone heard his uncontrolled shouts and came to see. He stood there for a moment, silent, eerily quiet. His hand was firmly on my neck, but no longer squeezing so hard and I thought I could manage a whisper.26

"I don't know," I struggled for a breath, "What your mother did to you-" Before he could actually make the move and kill me for mentioning it, I continued quickly, "and it's none of my business, but you don't have to do this." He leaned back slightly, his eyes staring deeply into mine. Then, to my surprise, he eased his grip on my throat, allowing more air to flow to my lungs. I gasped in a deep breath, my eyes never leaving his.27

"Do you want to know what she did?" His voice was soft now, but right on the edge of breaking again, still full of hatred and threatening. "Do you want to know what she did to me?" I slowly nodded, too scared to speak anymore. As he began speaking, I carefully, numbly, reached into my pocket. 28

"My mother," He was saying, "Was a devout "Christian."" He laughed as if there were something funny, but I failed to see the humor. "We went to church, every Sunday morning and night and every Wednesday for Bible Study, too. It was a typical church, normal. But my mother was NOT normal. She belonged in no church, she..." He took a deep breath and stepped away from me, running a hand through his hair. I didn't move. "Each day she made me and my brother read from the Bible, and do our chores and everyday, it was never enough. If we did the slightest thing wrong, she whipped us. I remember one day when I did the dishes, she said there was still food on one of the pans and used a four by four board to punish me." My heart ached. He had had such a terrible childhood, but he was still going to kill me. He turned, giving me his back and paced away before pacing back and away again. Each time his back was turned, I reached further into my pocket until it finally closed on my phone.29

"There was another time, my brother was sick and so I had to do all the chores. I tried so hard to get them all done but it was too much. When she came home, she beat me so hard I almost couldn't walk for days, but I had to or she would have beaten me again. Along with my chores, I had to read the Bible until "I understood the meaning of it." I never understood a word. God is great, God is good...it's all rubish. If God cared about me, he wouldn't have left me with that woman."30

"But God is always there." I said and he glared at me, his knife half raised. I gulped and fell utterly silent. After a few minutes, he continued.31

"Yes, I'm sure God was there, but so were the women. You know three women that went to church with us were our neighbors. One of them walked into our house one day when mother was beating us but she never did anything, never said a word. She could have helped, you know." His bitterness tore at my heart. "Then it happened again and the next day she and the other two women that lived by us came over and spoke with my mother. I was in the next room and I could hear them." I held my phone tightly in my hand, doing my best to keep it out of sight. "I remember hoping they would call the police and make my mother go away. All they did was tell her that her behavior had to stop. That was all they did."32

"And did it stop?" I asked, my voice faint.33

There was a low rumble from him, something that resembled a laugh and an angry groan. "No. It got worse. And then she killed my brother." I couldn't restrain the gasp that escaped my lips. The gasp lit the air and everything changed. It was as if that one gasp had brought both of us back to reality and he turned to me again. "That is why you Christians have to be exterminated. I'm doing the world a favor. I'm doing God a favor. Eve was his first mistake. You see, Wildwolf, God isn't great and good and almighty, God is weak. That is why he has humans do his work for him. He isn't powerful, he cant do it himself. You women are the worst devils out there, maybe even the Devil in disguise."34

My mouth gaped open. "So you think you're helping God out by killing women?!" I cried. "You can't say what God can and can't do, you have no idea how powerful he is! Just because you've read the Bible doesn't mean you know God. You have to have faith in him, not blame him for the way your mother was, not blame others for the way your mother was! She was one person, not all people!"35

"I'm killing Christian women. Those who claim to be so holy and pure and are not. Hypocrites all of you!" And with that he snapped and lunged for me. Moving quickly, I leapt to the side. I heard the metal of the knife scrape into the wall and I twisted, phone in hand, weilding it like it was the greatest weapon in the world. I slammed it into the side of his head. He grunted in surprise but the hit didn't really affect him to much and I began running, screaming at the top of my lungs in hopes that someone would hear. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him hot on my heels. My terror increased and I continued to run and scream, but he seemed to be gaining on me and I didn't know if I would make it. The end of the alley seemed so far, the street where I might find people. If there were no people, I'd keep running until I saw people or until I saw a house with lights in the window. No matter what, I wouldn't stop running until I'd found help, but that depended on me getting out of the alley first.36