The hair on his arms stands to attention in fear as he walks home. He knows he is being followed. He can feel it in his bones. After every ten paces he stops and turns around, examining his shadowy surroundings. Through squinted eyes he can make out nothing out of the ordinary; but he knows. He curses to himself, walking faster. He should have heeded the cities warning to not walk outside at night, especially alone. He knows he will be her next victim. Even if he could run faster than the speed of light, there is no escaping her. He doesn't know who she is, nobody does. Where she came from, what she looked like, if she had always been evil, why she was so sadistic, or if she was even human at all; they do not know.

But they know she has a name.

Voix.

And they know what she does.

Kills. Ruthlessly.

The man quickens his speed even more, breaking into a light sprint. He figures the faster he moves, the quicker all of his fear will be over, as will his life. Seconds later, his assumptions are proven correct. The small, silent figure appears suddenly before him. He stumbles backwards, tripping over his feet and landing on the dirty concrete sidewalk with a small thud. She crouches down, leering over him. She tilts her head and observes him curiously, this is the first victim who hasn't screamed upon coming face to face with her. She doesn't blame those that do for while there is something mesmerizingly beautiful about her, she is a walking nightmare.

Short, brown hair with dark, violet sweeping bangs that cover one of the two eyes that shine as black as night settle into flawless, ivory skin. The long, bashful eyelashes and flat, button nose give her a sense of false innocence. Then there's the last facial feature that is always noticed last, but focused on most. The space where her mouth should be is completely flat and smooth. It's a mystery to even her why she has no mouth, but her actions speak louder than any words she could ever dream of speaking. It's the fuel that sparks every set of vocal chords she violently rips out of each victim with her sharp, claw-like fingers.

This man is to be no special case to her cruel antics. He can effortlessly imagine the evil grin she would be donning as the sweat drips down his helpless body that lies under her. She ghosts the back of her nails over his cheek and under his chin, still watching him curiously, waiting for him to make a noise. She won't attack until she hears his voice. It's how each of her kills go, and she can remember every last one of their voices. From the shrill begging to the livid expletives, she never forgets.

Her patience wears thin and she returns to full height, bringing the man up to his feet by a death grip on his throat. She slams his body into the nearest tree, his back hitting the rugged, flaky bark, and he emits a small whimper. Progress, yes, but still not enough. She reaches behind to the man's back pocket, fishing out his wallet. Flipping it open, the small built-in picture album unravels, displaying a chain of three smiling young children and an older woman. She's hit the jackpot. Swiftly she tears the pictures from the leather and folds it back up, stuffing it into her cleavage caused by the tightness of her violet, latex costume.

Images of each of his happy children and wife lying dead in pools of their own blood flash through his mind. He cracks. He begs and pleads, but he won't be made an exception. He will suffer the fate of everyone else unfortunate enough to cross this villain's path.

Finally satisfied, her grip on his throat gets a little tighter, enough to now break the skin with the points of each of her nails. Eyes reflexively clench shut and strangled breath comes out in wheezes. Slowly she squeezes harder until her fingers puncture five small holes. The man sputters, little trails of blood trickling past his lips. Her movements don't stop until her hand is balled into a fist. She violently pulls back, tearing the man's vocal chords out, and tossing them carelessly to the ground. His limp body collapses onto the grass, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his heart beats its last few thumps.

She looks down at his lifeless body, feeling content and powerful. It's the one thing she loves; to know she can so easily take away the one thing she was cursed without.

Casually stepping over him, she strolls down the sidewalk. Now that the city is in a frightened frenzy, she could be out in public almost anywhere during the night and no one would even notice. It is for this reason she's taken aback and whips around in a protective stance when she feels the tap on her shoulder.

Sara Forester slams her sketchbook shut, the pen that was just in her hand now clattering onto the shiny hard wood floor. She spins around in the wheely chair she sits in and looks up at the person who startled her out of her daydream.

"Oh thank heavens! It's just you." She breathes a sigh of relief, picking her pen up and placing the sketchbook onto the pile of others just like it, along with mountains of comic books.

"Just me?" The man, Aiden Quin, quips. "That's no way to greet your fiancé."

"You're right. I'm sorry, baby." Standing on the tips of her toes and slinging her arms around his neck, she plants a quick, sweet kiss on his lips. "How's that?"

"Better. So what were you working on that had you so lost in la la land?" He asks, peeking over Sara's shoulder.

"Just doodles, comic related stuff. Nothing you have any interest in." Sara says nonchalantly. She tries to avoid talking about her comic related art too much. Especially since it's just a hobby. Sometimes she feels so nerdy and weird about loving comics and constantly daydreaming about herself as a character in one, not that Aiden knows anything about that.

"My little nerd," he teases, ruffling her hair. She pouts and ducks out of his way, smoothing her short hair back in place. "Also, that isn't true, you know. I have interest in the comics you doodle. I know you're a great artist, you don't have to be so secretive about it."

The only reason Aiden knew Sara had talent in drawing was because of the day they met. Sara was sitting alone outside on a picnic table at the community college they both attended, drawing in a notebook. Aiden noticed a cute girl constantly looking up at him out of the corner of his eye while sitting with his buddies. He got up and walked over to the girl, asking her what she was doing. She blushed, closing the notebook, and pushed her bangs behind her ear, telling him nothing. He knew that wasn't true and picked up her notebook, opening it to a sketch of him laughing. He smiled and looked back down at Sara, who was utterly mortified. He cracked a joke, working his charm, and she laughed, creating what was to be a very happy relationship.

"Maybe one day." She offers with the intent of never actually planning to do so. She would like to remain the normal, housewife image that Aiden pictures her to be, or she hopes he does. It's what shewants to be for Aiden because she loves him and wants him to be happy.

"I'd like that. So what's for supper tonight, babe?" He sniffs the air, smelling nothing delicious like he usually does when he gets home from work.

"Oh no! I completely forgot to make something!" Sara makes for a mad dash to the kitchen but Aiden wraps his strong arm that's almost as big as Sara's middle around her, pulling her into him. She tries to fight her way out of his tight grasp but she's too little to escape.

"Calm down!" He laughs happily at her futile efforts. She could be so cute at times. Or all the time, he thought. "We'll order in tonight, okay? Something special for our celebration."

"Celebration? What is there to celebrate?" Sara asks. She turns around in his grip, looking up at him quizzically.

"We'll discuss it while we eat." He drops his arm from Sara's waist and pats his stomach, heading towards the kitchen. "Now where do you keep those menus?"

Sara follows closely behind, fishing the take-out menus from the drawer beside the refrigerator. They flip through them, settling on Chinese. Aiden calls in their order while Sara sets the table.

Before long the doorbell rings. Aiden buzzes the man up to their third floor apartment. He pays and Sara dishes the greasy deep fried food onto their respective plates. They sit down across from another at their small dining table.

Aiden shovels a spoonful of fried rice into his mouth, gently rubbing Sara's left hand that rests on the table with his own unoccupied right hand.

"Sara Quin sounds much better than Sara Forester, wouldn't you agree?" He questions with a twinkle in his eye, running a finger down Sara's ring finger that holds the decently sized engagement ring.

"Whole heartedly." She answers with a smile, tucking her long wavy bangs behind her ear. It was a gesture she always did when she was nervous, shy, or complimented.

Aiden smiles back. He loves it when Sara does that, and purposely did or said things just because he knew she would react in that way.

"So what is it that we need to celebrate?" Sara asks, popping a piece of orange chicken into her mouth. She catches Aiden's brow furrow for just a second before he looks up at her, smile back in place.

"Oh, right. I got a promotion today."

"Baby, that's great! I'm happy for you." She takes his hand in her own, squeezing it.

"I completely agree. But the job isn't here, in Montreal." He looks back down at his food. This was going to be the hard part.

"Where is it?" Sara asks with a bit of worry. She doesn't really have anything grounding her to Montreal, but it was where she grew up and always assumed she would raise her own family with Aiden.

"Vancouver. I know it's far. Really far. I didn't accept the offer yet but it's a decent pay raise and i'd love to be able to spoil you even more, but we are doing perfectly fine with what I make now. The company will pay to have our things moved into a new place and for our airline tickets. Not to mention my parents, grandparents, and sister all live out there, and it would be nice to be closer to them. Also my sister is the same age as you so i'm sure you could hang out and bond over something." He explains, pushing the food around on his plate anxiously. He would love to take the job, but if Sara wants to stay here, he'd just as happily do that too. "So, what do you think?"

Sara mulls it over in her mind. Having to learn a new city when she already knows this one like the back of her hand is unsettling. She would have to make new friends, not that she ever hangs out with her current ones. However she always dreamed of getting married at her favorite park in this city, but there had to be a just as nice place in Vancouver. However it would also make Aiden happy, and she would like to get to know his family better, she's only ever met his parents a couple times. And not that they needed the money, but more could never hurt.

"Take the offer. Let's do it." It's a hasty decision, but the immediate pros seem to outweigh the cons.

"Sara, honey, are you sure? I know you love this city. I don't want you to up and leave just because you think it will make me happy. Your happiness is my happiness, remember?"

"You're right, I do love Montreal but I can always come back and visit. We could use a change of scenery, anyway. It'll be an adventure, something new we will do together." Sara sets her fork down, standing up. She makes the few short steps to Aiden, who pushes his chair away from the table. She sits down on his lap, one arm looping around his neck and the palm of her other hand resting flat against his chest. "So yes, i'm sure."

Aiden locks his hands together around Sara's waist, leaning in. He connects their lips shortly before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers. "I'm so lucky to have you. I love you."

"And I love you."

"What do you say we go and celebrate?" Aiden raises his eyebrows, wiggling them, and squeezing Sara's side playfully.

Sara giggles and squirms in his lap. It was one of her most ticklish spots, though she was pretty much ticklish everywhere. She hops off him, away from his dancing fingers, and heads towards the hallway, deciding the dishes and leftovers can most definitely be taken care of later.

"I don't know... We should probably start packing right away.." She feigns disinterest, waving him off before throwing him a wink and scurrying off towards the bedroom.