The Cliché of a Thousand Years

She could feel another being in the alley with her. She could sense someone watching her, following her. She stayed calm, however. If she dashed for the exit, she might alarm her pursuer into a frenzied rage. If she stopped, she would just die quicker. This alley was the perfect place for a murder. She thought of every convict that lived in the city: a serial killer on First Street, a rapist on Dashwood, an arsonist on Clemence. Those streets were on the other side of the city. And they would be unable to hold out for so long. The urge to kill would drive them mad if they didn’t do it as soon as they got her alone.