She was the second victim that night.

The killings had started three months ago, when he was hired for the job.

He scrambled to pick up the broken glass, frantically looked around the room to find something to clean up the blood with. What would he do with the body?

About an hour later, Garret Latherson emerged from the office building. He silently walked back to his appartment, unoticed by everyone on the busy street.

He never turned on the lights in his appartment either. The brightness hurt his eyes. It never used to, until he took this part. He felt like something had taken over his soul, screwing with his brain. And, when he heard that voice…

It was the worst feeling in the world that he could do nothing about.

Sitting on the couch, Garret looked down at his hands. Even though he had scrubbed them clean, he could still see the blood.

How much longer could he go on like this before the cops found out?