Professor Leonard Bright was a strong suspect. Now, thanks to this helpful receptionist, they knew why he might have a motive for the crimes, and also, they knew where he lived.
CHAPTER TEN
He thought of himself as the Grim Reaper.
That was how he perceived himself, when he took off his everyday clothes and pulled on the dark clothing, the hat, and the long, dark coat that he wore when he became somebody else.
Somebody to be feared, and somebody who could take lives.
That's why he'd chosen the Grim Reaper outfit. It suited his purpose because he dealt in death. That was his new calling and his role. Never before had he realized that it was so necessary. An essential task, and he was the one suited for it. The one who had been chosen and who chose his targets with the utmost care.
Not just anyone could die. Only those he had pinpointed.
The Reaper was out now, strolling through the farmland, with his black jacket concealed in a bag, and his scythe over his shoulder. He knew exactly where he was heading now, and he was happy to walk. Nobody would think twice looking at him. Seeing farm workers walking from place to place carrying their tools was such a common sight, it would go unnoticed.
It was a pleasant late afternoon, although this particular area of farmland was not as scenic as his previous meeting places had been.
The sky was blue, but the countryside was desolate and the fields he was passing looked ungroomed and uncared for. It was a poorer part of this community. He knew this farm on his right had been for sale for a long time and had recently been sold. Perhaps the new owner would do better with it, and the earth would be fertile again, and that piece of land would be covered with rich crops.
But as he walked, his thoughts cheered him, uplifting him from the rundown feeling of the area. He wasn’t thinking aboutcrop farming anymore. He was thinking about what he was going to do next.
He was looking forward to arranging another date with destiny for his next target, who lived on a farm farther south. That was where he was walking now. It was time for her to die. Past time, in fact.
The scythe he carried was lethally sharp, and he'd found he had no hesitation in wielding it. In fact, doing so gave him a powerful thrill, a feeling that he was truly bringing balance back to their lives and completing a circle that had been left ragged and unfinished.
The emotions that were coursing through him were amazing. He felt totally in tune with himself and the world around him.
He couldn't wait for the third of his rebalances to be complete. It would be the best of the three, and another experience that he would remember forever.
What he was doing was exhilarating, and now he was sure that he would never get tired of it.
Strangely, he found he was looking forward to killing again, and this time, he knew the feeling of justice, of balance, would be far more intense. He knew that he would be able to take his time, and use the weapon to its full potential.
He knew that it was a matter of time. That the others would be found soon, and the news of the killings would spread. He didn't believe he'd left any clues, but he was sure that he could make his mark on the world before they'd start looking for the agent of justice.
He knew he had limited time. Everyone on this earth had limited time. That fact had been brutally brought home to him in recent weeks. He had felt the pain of that fact when his first two victims had passed away. But then he had felt the satisfaction that he'd brought back the balance, tilted it back toward where it needed to be, righting the wrong of their continuing life.
The Reaper liked to be in control of time.He felt a sense of satisfaction in being able to decide for others when they should pass, and how they should release back the months and years they'd borrowed from fate.
The Reaper had no need to feel remorse or guilt. He was simply doing what had to be done.
He would continue doing what he had to do for as long as he could.
He didn't know how long he had, but right now, he was in control, and that was what really mattered.
That gave him power, and he was finding this an intoxicating emotion. How strange was it to understand that he had become a weapon of equality and justice. It was the most satisfying feeling, to see the target and strike, to see the life-light fade from her eyes and to know that he'd done his job.
People wanted to think that the world was a place of structure, of order, of balance. And yet, they turned a blind eye to the anomalies and the imbalances that he had seen, the glaring errors that he knew needed to be righted and fixed.
Everything was as it should be thanks to him. He was simply a catalyst for a natural order. He was the link that would take them away from the earth and back to where they belonged.
He took a deep breath as he walked through the fields toward his destination, taking in the clean, fresh air, feeling thankful for every exhalation of his lungs and every beat of his heart. But then, he had the right to be humble and thankful because he wasn't the one stealing time from others.
He knew that he was a living example of justice. One of the few who understood what had to be done.
He remembered clearly the moment when this insight had come to him. It had felt like a light, shining into a dark room, illuminating a strange reality that he hadn't realized existed atall. But once he'd found it, he could not unsee it. Now he was compelled to follow his new calling.
The Reaper was on a mission. To bring balance back to the world.