It was a still night, its shadows-like tendrils of malevolence stretched across the desolate streets, ensnaring any remaining flickers of light in its iron grip. The streetlights, their glow barely penetrating the oppressive darkness, only added to the eerie tableau of desolation. Hidden in the shadows of the ominous night was a man, dressed in all black, leaning against a brick wall. His heart cold as ice, his mind twisted by a sinister purpose. He was Kristian Valor, a man who always wore mask of sweetness and lovingness to keep his evil self a secret.

His lips twitched into a small insincere smile when the girl he made plans with walked up to him with a slight bounce in her steps. He led her into a hotel, the smile on his lips widening, but never reaching his eyes. He pushed her into their room, wrapped an arm across her chest, leaned down, and pressed his lips against her neck. He smirked to himself as he slowly pulled a knife from the back pocket of his jeans.

He tightened his hold on her before quickly plunging the knife into her neck. Blood spurted everywhere, painting the floor, the walls, and his clothes a dark red. He ripped the knife out and stepped away from her body, watching with a murderous glee as she dropped to the floor with a loud thump. He easily stepped over her body and went into the bathroom, planning to clean the blood off of his body and clothes. He let out a deep sigh as he stood under the cold running shower, feeling his mind clear up and his tensed muscles relax.

After some time, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He went to the sink to wash his clothes and his knife. He clutched the clean knife with one hand, brought the other hand up to his head, and pushed his wet hair backwards as he left the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks, eyebrows raising, and eyes widening slightly when he saw his fiancèe sitting on the bed. "You're here," he breathed out. He cautiously moved towards her and stopped when he was directly in front of her.