You know, not as many people in the world call me "sir" as I'd expect. Far less than I'm comfortable with, to tell the truth. That's why I never really turned away the one who did like I thought I would.

It was nighttime. Of course. It's always nighttime with these things. But I have to tell you, a lot of stuff happens at night. So much so that it's way too tempting to crawl out of my hideaway every time the sun goes down just to see what'll take place. But I can't do that. So every now and then I'll give myself a little treat, and by now you should know what comes with that. Bloodshed and trouble.

I was walking down the street trying to make myself as small as possible because we can't afford to be spotted. Not with our knives out, anyway. And right when I reach the corner and I think I'm alone, I saw a little something coming my way. Seemed like they didn't know if I was really there or not, otherwise they'd have gone running wild in the other direction.

So they continued towards me.

And I continued towards them.

And when we reached each other I already had the blade out, just in case, but then I realized I had nothing to worry about because it was just some helpless young woman out for a stroll. Now, I had plenty of questions to ask on their own. But I didn't exactly get a chance to talk immediately because she goes off.

"Y-you're Jeffrey Woods. Please don't hurt me, I didn't mean to...I mean, I'll just get out of your way and I won't tell anyone."

"Listen, I think you're—"

"Please. I don't want to die. I'll keep my mouth shut, I swear!"

"Sweetheart, I'm not who you think I am."

"You...you're not?" Her mouth formed a quivering, hopeful smile at that, and I showed her my teeth as I drew my knife into the air.

"Yeah. I'm Jeff Hodek, darling. And you might wanna set a more realistic goal for yourself than not dying tonight, because I can assure you I don't just let people get out of my way."

Her smile slowly faded as she realized exactly what was happening. She held her arms up against her face, shaking.

"I-I've never heard of a Jeff Hodek! I'm begging you, don't kill me, I won't say anything to anyone! I can give you money, if that's what you want, but don't—"

"Oh, you're going to have to be more convincing than that," I growled, stepping closer and looming over her cowering form.

"I can kill someone else for you!"

"Tempting, but no."

"I...I can be your girlfriend!"

I froze.

What.

"...girlfriend," I repeated incredulously, just to make sure that was what she had said.

"Y-yeah! Or slave, if you prefer. I'll do whatever you want, anything! Just please...let me live. I won't do anything to contradict you." I could hear the desperation in her voice; she was definitely frightened of what I might do. But for all I knew, she could've really also been one of those freaky people who were in love with who they thought I was. I almost laughed.

"Alright. You've got something going for yourself. By all means, keep talking. What exactly are you planning to do as my partner, miss?" I bowed down with my hands behind my back until our faces were at level. For a moment, she lowered her arms and I saw tears just barely escaping her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Her mouth was agape, and her face was entirely flushed red. It took all my willpower not to chuckle as she tried to come up with something of substance to say.

"I...um, I could...I'll make you food? I can hold things up if you're away doing whatever it is you do...? Just, uh, regular housewife stuff, I guess, and, you know..." she trailed off, like she was too shy to say the last thing I knew was on her mind.

"Sex," I finished for her, raising an eyebrow.

"Wh-what?! You...I don't...!" Her face went even redder, if you could imagine. I finally managed to laugh.

"Oh, man. You know, you are one cute little thing. So funny..."

While she was caught off guard, I leaned closer to her and brought the knife up to her back. I smirked as she grew more terrified and confused than before.

"...that you think any of that could ever happen."

I plunged it through her ribcage and into her heart from behind, saving the usual excessive gore for another night. Before she could collapse on me, I caught her by the waist and quickly sliced a smile onto her face, licking the blood off one side of the blade.

"There. Now you're more my type."

I tucked it away again and dropped the body on the ground, walking off to some other town that wouldn't cause me as much trouble. I silently cursed that girl out for wasting my one kill of this area before I got caught again; I was in no shape for a spree so I couldn't make the most of tonight and then pack my things. Besides, it was almost morning. This little idiot's death would be on every news station in the state in a couple of hours, and I had to get out of here now.

So I just kept walking until I was out of town.

I get no real respect, I thought.

I could leave my old hideout behind, of course. I didn't even make it; some old little shack in the middle of a garbage dump had been waiting for me here for what seemed like a long time. It always bothered my skin, all the dust floating around. Not to mention the smell. Fuck no. I happily left it behind, and I didn't have any important belongings there anyway. I always carried my knife and the photo in my pockets whenever I could, especially going out in the open.

But this new town felt strange. Like that one phrase you'd hear all the time in old western movies; There's only enough room for one sheriff here. And something told me there was already a "sheriff" taking care of things in this establishment.

Or at least, there was going to be.

I quickly retreated to a nearby forest at sunrise and, by some miracle, found a small trapdoor in a remote clearing that led to a charming little underground home. Granted, it was filthy and, again, seemed like it hadn't been used in ages. There was dirt and cobwebs everywhere, and I think some dried blood in a corner somewhere. But I was content being a mole man for a while if it meant safety, and the place even had a little kitchen.

I decided to hold camp for a couple of days and see what I could do with my new home before I wasted another solace. Surprisingly, keeping up the place was so distracting that I actually felt as if I could wait some more to go out and kill. There was too much to do; I hadn't lived somewhere like this in a long time. I was able to test out my cooking skills recovered from college days, and semi-effectively heal any past wounds I'd neglected for the sake of survival and adaptability. And there were a lot of those.

But even will all that, it would only be a matter of time before I ran into conflict.

I had spent weeks, months inside my little hideout and therefore failed to notice that a certain someone else was already occupying these woods. The first time I encountered her, I was able to tell exactly what I had gotten myself into, because that bitch Natalie unloaded an entire tank of tear gas into my side of the forest. Hurt like hell, especially when it got directly in my eyes. I knew that if that whole thing with the acid hadn't happened all those years ago, I wouldn't be that bothered by it. But I have scars here, there, and everywhere on my face and I can't even wash myself without feeling like I'm on fire. So I'd just stay inside, never going up unless I really needed to and my face was covered.

I swear, if he hadn't just left me to fend for myself, I might've become a better person. Might've even stopped the whole killing thing. This was all on him, I knew it. But you can't reverse the past, you know? Gotta move forward.

Looks like I wasn't the only one who needed to learn that.