Well this is a bit weird, but someone's following me. I know right!? But the feeling that my death is close by is haunting me. I held tight to my knife, not even wanting to look at the fucking note. I have never been hunted before. This is a new feeling for me and I like it. It's going to be exciting to kill the person who wants to kill me! Though… If it's that sweet little girl, I might take even more pleasure in killing her. That fucking sweet bitch called Jane. Her pain, when I burned her, was so sexually invigorating that I wanted to fuck her right there and then, just to hear her scream over and over again. She was trying to rip off her clothes because the bleach was burning her so bad. Oh, damn she was hot. Oh the inevitable joke. I laughed so hard that day.

I picked up the note and opened it, the faint smell of rose and sandalwood being released when I unfolded the delicate paper. Oh, that smell. Her old perfume before she made me limp with her burned smell. I read it carefully. It said: I want to meet you in the park at 3:00 see you there, my sweet darling. It wasn't carefully written, like she used to write her notes, but scrawled, as if every letter pained her. Oh, that got my heart racing. That meant her fingers were still burned. Good for me. Bad for her. I wonder if she still has that mask I have her. I like that bitch's pain. I just imagine her face while she writes this note. She must have been so pissed at me, but it just made me laugh. I crumpled up the note and threw it away, walking out of the decrepit place to the park. It was 1:00, but I needed the air. I pulled up the hood of my bloodstained hoodie up and walked into the sun. I hate the fucking piece of shit called the sun. It hurts my lidless eyes. I hid in dark alleys on my way to the park. It was empty. I stood there, trying hard not to rub my stinging eyes.

It was nearly four before Jane showed up. Oh, beauty will never suit her. Her long black dress is covered in holes and scratches, not like I had left it for her. The mask was covered in dry blood, dark against the whiteness. Fuck her. I crossed my arms, making sure she would see my knife. I could see hers, not so bloody as mine, but still bloody.

"Found my roses in the trash."

Jane giggled and raised a gloved hand to cover her mask's lips "My nurse threw them out."

I made an unbelieving noise in the back of my throat and tried to smirk. Jane made a disgusted noise, so I guess my smile wasn't pretty for her. Good, because I don't fucking care what that ungrateful bitch thinks. I like my smile.

"I like my mask." Her voice was unbelievably sweet, and nice. Yuck. She touched her mask again, the lace of her gloves scraping against the dried blood on it. I was really, really pissed off at this bitch. She ruined my gift. "By the way, Jeff, today you won't die."