I can feel someone in the shadows watching me. It is almost midnight. Even though the moon casts eerie shadows I feel no panic. In fact there is almost a sort of calm surrounding me. Far off in the distance I can hear the clock strike twelve, the witching hour.

He steps out from the shadows into the circle of light cast by the street lamp. It is a pale, yellowish glow but I can still make him out. Tall, maybe about six foot six, and well proportioned. It appears that he is wearing a suit with an overcoat flung across his shoulders.

Slowly he moves towards me. As he is getting closer I can see that it is actually a cape that he is wearing. A black cape with red lining that keeps flashing as he is walking. An arms length away from me he stops. Unblinking he stares at me and I am caught in his gaze like a startled rabbit in a spotlight.

What does he see when he looks at me? When I look in the mirror all I see is a woman of forty three. Short and leaning towards dumpy and frumpy rather than a curvaceous, desirable woman. It has always been a bugbear with me that I am not as well developed as my sisters but rather flat in the chest. All in all I do not like what looks back at me.

But he is looking at me in away that no man has ever before. It is like he is looking into my soul. I feel like I am stripped bare to the bones under his scrutiny. One step closer and his warm sweet breath blows on my face. My knees are trembling, yet I cannot move.

Suddenly I feel it. Hot, sharp, agony penetrating right to the core. Even now I still cannot move as his knife slips into me again and again. The last thing I see as I slip to the ground is his cape swirling as he turns away from me.