The Victor

*A Flash Fiction contest entry*

He slid easily through the thick black night. The evil of his crime faded into the darkness that absorbed the sound of his determined pace. The nightlife that normally haunted the shadow filled corners froze and breathlessly watched him slip past.

He stopped suddenly and slowly pivoted, searching carefully the area around where he stood. Slowly, steadily, with eyes as cold as the chill in the air, he probed the darkness. Then, satisfied, his mouth gradually began to widen into an amused grin. His lips moved apart allowing his ivory teeth to show and he laughed, softly. He waited a moment then laughed again, just a little louder, then looked around once more. Nothing had changed. He laughed again … and again. Growing louder with each breath, his laughter spread itself through the night like a lewd and hungry cancer. It filled the air ... smothered it. It searched out the hidden corners and distorted their shadows. It disturbed the gentle wind and sent it fleeing fearfully through the night. Then ... abruptly ... he stopped.

He stopped. And the silence was like a huge vacuum ... yet nothing rushed to fill the painful space. He slowly turned around one more time, taking one long look at his surroundings. In the distance he could see the beginnings of a new day as the gold and orange messengers swept furiously across the grey sky.

And then he moved on, easing his way through the cold, shadowed morning.

He'd won.