So this is a little story that I made on the topic of love. The story focuses on a killer who has a twisted view on love and finding his loved ones. Enjoy! [quote][b]The Diner[/b][/quote] The diner. What an auspicious place to be. Classic diner setup, of course, complete with red bar, tall stools available in front of the said bar, tables lined up neatly with ninety degree angles along the windows, and waitress always there, taking orders from customers. I sipped my caffe latte thoughtfully, glancing at the clock. Of course, at 5:16 in the morning, you couldn't expect too many applicants, but I just had this feeling in my gut. A feeling of good fortune, if you will. I will find that person tonight. I will find that special someone. I will find love. At long last. I had just ordered my fourth cup of coffee when I heard the door open. That little feeling in my gut tugged towards the direction of the door. I turned, and there she was. Angels began singing as the beautiful woman closed the door behind her. She seemed to illuminate everything around her, practically emanating warmth and everything that was good. A dark brown waterfall of hair cascaded down her jacket, which fit her great body perfectly. Iridescent blue eyes were framed by flawlessly applied eyeliner. Her luscious lips twisted slightly, cutely, as she surveyed the menu with those deep eyes. I took a long sip of coffee, mentally running through the process that I had done so many times before. The process of charming said lady, becoming acquainted, and therefore finding true love. Only this time, I felt like I really did find, to use a clichéd term, the perfect one. She looked bedraggled, probably from the rain pouring outside. I concluded that since her hair and clothes were dripping, she did not have an umbrella stored in that elegant purse of hers. Sure enough, she rummaged through that magnificent container of items and cursed under her breath, so quietly that even my tuned ears could hardly notice it next to the commotions and conversations in the diner. I nodded discreetly, congratulating myself on this wonderful find. Not often do you find a great-looking woman who's not afraid to speak her mind. Truly, the heavens have smiled down upon me this dreary day. The eye-catching specimen ordered a coffee from the waitress nearby in a musical voice. Black coffee, to be exact. My second favorite. A familiar ache in my heart nudged me to go closer, to begin phase one of my tried and true process. I got up quietly from my booth, pulling my cap downwards to hide my face. I walked out the diner and into the pouring rain. Shielded from the onslaught by my umbrella, I quickly took off my cap and my jacket, stuffing them both in my car, which was parked at the end of the block. I then walked back inside, effectively transforming myself into a different figure who has never been to the diner before. As soon as I walked in, I headed to the seat right next to the applicant. "One coffee, please," I called out to the waitress. "Americano." I slid suavely into the seat, brushing the water droplets from my shirt. Phase two: acquaintances. I turned to the applicant and said in a conversational tone, "Pretty bad weather out there, isn't it?" She looked at me, slightly startled at this rather direct approach to conversation, "I guess so." She then turned back to her coffee. Tough crowd. I turned it up a notch, "Don't you have an umbrella? Surely that great-looking purse of yours has one." "Oh, no. I usually bring one, especially if the forecast says it's going to rain. But it just happens that I woke up late today, and I forgot to bring one." That's more like it. She's opening up. I prompted her, "So do you come here every day?" "No, this is my first time here. I thought I could grab a bite to eat before going to work." "Oh, yeah? What do you do?" "My job? I'm a doctor at the hospital near here." Jackpot. A doctor. Wow. I could hardly believe my luck. An attractive applicant who's also very intelligent. Today was really my day. "A doctor? So you're smart and good-looking." She smiled at the compliment. This conversation was getting better and better. I had just ordered another coffee when the fine specimen next to me looked at her watch and muttered something under her breath. "What's up?" I asked. She began to gather her things up, "Nothing, I just lost track of time. I have to get to work soon." She handed the check to the waitress. "It was nice meeting you" Damn it. This could ruin everything. Still, I must berate myself. A backup plan is always necessary, especially when there are unprecedented variables present. I quickly stood up and said, "Do you have a car? I could give you a ride." "In fact, my car's at the mechanic's right now. Would you mind? Giving me a ride, I mean." "Not at all. I could use some fresh air anyway." Accepting her thanks, I led the way to my car at the end of the block, making a mental note to myself to always remember to form a backup plan. This was simply too close of a shave. I held open the door to the backseat, saying, "I'm sorry, but the front seat is simply too messy right now. You don't mind sitting at the back, do you?" "No, it's fine." After she had gotten in, I closed the door and got into the driver's seat. Phase three has begun. I rummaged quietly in my bags in the passenger seat, looking for those essential items. I heard her say how grateful she was to me again, and I vaguely replied, saying that it was no trouble. Suddenly, I struck gold. I took out the cotton pad and the bottle of chloroform, checking to see if it still had liquid. It was almost empty. I made another mental note to myself to get more after testing the current applicant. Quickly hiding the cotton and bottle in my pocket, I took a deep breath, preparing myself. This was always the most delicate stage. I started the ignition and set off onto the nearly deserted morning road. "The hospital's not far," I heard her say. "Just take a left right here and head straight." I obliged. As soon as I headed left, I scanned the roads for a suitable secluded area. I vaguely heard her voice saying something, probably more directions. No matter, we were not going to the hospital anyway. I finally found a parking space near a derelict building, sandwiched between two apartment complexes. Ignoring her questions about why we've stopped, I quickly took the bottle and pad out, squirting the liquid chloroform into the cotton. I then turned around, and with practiced and experienced hands, forced the wet cotton pad against her face. Her sapphire-blue eyes went wide, and she began to struggle wildly. Her nails managed to find my arm and gouged a piece of skin out, revealing blood. Still, this was nothing new. I remained relentless, stolid, impassive to her struggle. Eventually, the panic waned, and her resolve wavered. Her eyes closed, and her body went limp, unconscious from the chloroform. Perhaps I used a bit too much.