Flash fiction challenge entry.
|I found myself in another uncomfortable situation, one that had occurred more and more frequently over the past few months.
I took a step forward, so did he.
His eyes were brown, but appeared black in this light. His hair had tinges of gray and was worn short, a remnant of a military career, long past, but not forgotten. A hairline scar creased the skin from the corner of his right eye down to his cheekbone. His tailored clothes did little to conceal a physique sculpted over decades of training and discipline.
Sweat rings and streaks began to creep into the navy blue fabric of my shirt. I felt the damp, cool material cling to my skin. I took a nervous breath and the smell of cologne, trapped in the space between us, drifted up, and into to my nose. It was a familiar, comforting smell and for a couple of seconds the tension in my neck and chest released. Another breath, this time through my mouth. My pulse rate dropped. Good, I needed to be calm if I wanted to get through this in one piece. I held my head up, stood tall and stared into the black, cold eyes.
"You don't scare me," he said.
The words echoed around the room.
I should, you know exactly what I'm capable of, I thought.
I closed the closet door, and with it, the full length mirror.
I picked up the knife, turned it over in my hand, smiled and headed for the front door. This would be my fourth and hopefully best kill yet.