“Moron! Do you have a death wish?!”

He continued riding at full throttle through the dark roads, turning when the mood struck him. He rounded the plain below a slightly elevated hill. Rice fields spread out before him as he continued to ride for some time yet before he entered a residential area.

He rode the bike to an area under one of the trees before he turned off the engine. Even as he kicked up the stand, he was always watchful of his surroundings. He could only see some lights of houses off in the distance and the weak light emitted from the moon. Even if someone else were nearby, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. That being said, it could be said for the other way around— the darkness served to protect him. He threw aside the clunky helmet that belonged to God knows who, and reached for the woman’s shoulder bag that he had hooked on the handle. He began to walk in the darkness.

In the beginning, he had intended to walk at a leisurely, calm pace, but it hadn’t been long before his steps had quickened. He didn’t know why; his legs just seemed to move on their own. The sound of his breathing and the rustling of his clothes seemed excessively loud to his ears. Spurred by these sounds, he continued down the path.

As his steps slowed down to a slow jog, he opened and closed his left hand, which was still enclosed in cotton work gloves. He then lifted his hand closer to his face. Even in the darkness, he could still make out the dark stain on his index finger as well as the area around it. Next, he took out the butterfly knife he had shoved into the pocket of his jacket. When he pulled out the sharp object, there was further proof of a blackish substance plastered to the metal.

He had slipped up. Until now, he had only lightly grazed them, since he only wanted one thing, and that was their bag; their money. That’s why as long as the victim was scared, he was satisfied. If they let out a little scream, then well, so be it. If he were to be honest, he found some satisfaction at hearing the scream of a woman as he sped away. Just hearing a “No!” or “Ah!” made him feel a soothing calmness spread in his body.

When he realized what had happened, he had hastily withdrawn the knife. He had felt a slight resistance. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he had heard the woman let out a moan.

I didn’t hear a scream… so what? Does that mean she keeled over right then and there? Is she dead?

He realized that the row of street lights that had caught his eye earlier were ones set up along the parapet of the bridge that ran above the river. The concrete wall that stretched along the left hand side was one that served as a river embankment.

Only then did he allow himself to slip off his gloves. He balled them up before chucking it as well right into the river. He’d done it enough times that it had become like second nature to him by now.

When are these fuckers going to carry some REAL money?

At any rate, there was no changing the fact that if he just stood there by himself like this that he would likely draw attention to himself. He shoved both his hands into his pockets and acted nonchalant as he sauntered his way across the bridge. At the halfway point, he noticed a sign that indicated that he was approaching the next prefecture. In other words, it meant that once he passed that point, he was able to move to the neighbouring prefecture.

These were the times he thought lady luck was on his side; it had been this way since he was a kid. Someway, somehow, he had always managed to overcome obstacles.

–I guess she’s a goner.

He wondered how old she was. He only saw her from behind so he couldn’t be sure, but he guessed that she was probably in her late twenties, but no more than thirty. She really was an unlucky one. To think that the moan that she let out might just have been her last words….

He smoked a cigarette as he walked alongside the dark river. The smoke he exhaled was swept away by the chilly wind.

It wasn’t worth it. He had gone through the trouble to buy brand new cotton work gloves, steal a bike and had spent his time singling out a victim. And if this thing turned into a murder, well then, the pay off didn’t equal the crime.

–I guess convenience stores are my only option.

If he went into the convenience store in disguise, they would be able to tell what’s up right away, and he also had to prepare for what to do if the person at the register decided to resist. The biggest risk about it though was that more and more convenience stores have started setting up security cameras, and that alone increased the odds of him getting caught. In other words, it was just too risky.

–It’s not like it makes a difference. I’ve killed someone now. There’s no topping that.
He exhaled his last puff of smoke before throwing the cigarette that he had smoked until it reached the filter into the darkness. The small red light was picked up by the wind as it was carried down into the river waters.