Closer than comfortable,
Jake was excited,
And yet unnerved.
By her presence.

She told him her name was Millicent;
He was surprised at the gentle feel
Of her name as it reached his ears.

Nothing could have prepared him
For the night that was to follow,
As she moved even closer to him,
As his excitement grew.

And in the next instant,
Utter fright and confusion filled him,
As she touched the tip of the blade
To his belly.

Separated from the knife’s fury,
By a single width of cloth,
His black cotton t-shirt,
Jake screamed inside.

He prayed it was a dream,
While smelling her sweet perfume,
And something beneath it;
The scent of the enraged,
The passion of a killer -
He willed himself not to enjoy the scents.

How could someone
So soft and kind in appearance
Perform this act?

Jake recalled that first glance,
From across the restaurant.

In hindsight, he now knew,
She had planned for the moment,
From the instant she saw him.

His blood ran cold,
As he looked at the ice of her eyes,
And felt the terror of the moment.

She transformed in an instant,
From peace to insanity,
From kindness to murderous intent,
From pursued to pursuer.

Jake felt his center moving;
He forced himself to remember
To take a breath,
And another.

His vision blurring,
He wondered if he would faint;
He moved outside himself,
Looked at the scene with curious interest.

He tasted the blood,
As he bit the right side of his tongue,
Wanting not to faint,
Wanting not to feel the fullness of his horror.

“What is she saying?”
Nick returned to this moment,
Listened to her words.

“Don’t move.”
Her voice was as cool as her gaze;
There was no room for negotiating.

Jake had no choice;
He focused on his breathing,
Quietly gave her his attention.

“I know who you are.
Don’t try to deny it.”
She paused to let the words settle in.

“Could she really know who I am?”
Jake searched his mind for answers,
For hints of what may have gone wrong.