Standing a few paces from the exquisitely dressed lady, the killer's gaze was focused on her close-to-perfect form. She strutted across the wooden floor with confident steps, never bothering to glance at the other people in the room for any more than a few seconds. She had always been that way. Overly confident and constantly snobby, her world revolved around just one person – herself. She believed she had a right to everyone's attention – and she always got it.

Admired by men and women alike, she was well aware of the privileges her beauty accorded her, and she put it to good use. It was no surprise to anyone when she got into one of the top real estate companies as a fresh graduate, beating out no less than eighty thousand other candidates who had applied for the role. It was no surprise either when she was assigned her client list. Almost everyone with an abyss for a deep pocket was managed by her, ensuring she beat her colleagues to the prize of the greatest commission, year after year.

The killer had seen her on TV time and time again, talking about hard work, dedication and professionalism as the keys to corporate success but even a blind man could tell she didn't owe her success to anything on that list. The presenter beamed at her that day, just like everyone else in the room was doing now. He nodded in agreement to the pile of bull she dished, just like the other people in the room were nodding to the verbatim replay of information already present on the property's webpage. It was ridiculous. The property was a masterpiece. It didn't need persuasion to get itself a buyer. Why eight busy men decided to spend thirty minutes of their time listening to someone talk about a property they knew they would purchase without hesitation if they could outbid everyone else, was no one's guess. It was crystal clear to anyone with eyes. They were here for the possibility of a private meeting with 'one of the best realtors in the business'. That was the phrase the presenter had used during the interview and quite frankly, the killer found it pathetic. It was good enough reason to want her gone, but it was certainly not the only reason.

The killer watched as the lady continued to speak, completely oblivious of the imminent danger. The lady derived complete satisfaction from knowing she had everyone's undivided attention, and she would keep it effortlessly, for the duration of the meeting. As she described the materials and finishing used for the flooring, the only thing the killer could picture was the lady's blood splashed across the beautiful surface. Predicting just how much of it would splash onto the surrounding walls was an offer too tempting to resist. It had to be imagined too. The killer could almost smell the iron from the imaginary blood on the ground. It was a thrilling experience regardless of its virtual nature. It was going to be even more thrilling when the sharp edge of the silver knife the killer had chosen for this mission pierced through her beating heart. It was almost time, all the killer needed to do now was wait.

*** ...and so the story begins! Love it? Hate it? Not sure? Let me know in the comments section :)

Sorry this update is short, next one will be a lot longer. Until then, cheerio. ***