Running through the streets, abandoned, was something he had never seen himself doing in his mind’s eye. The steady rhythm of his feet was echoed by the equal rhythm of his attacker’s footsteps. Blood mixed with sweat ran down the lean, wrinkled face of the victim, his heart pumping as he realized that his fate would be the same as Melissa’s: death. He had reached a dead end in the street…and his life.

The sound of his attacker’s footsteps grew louder and louder, like the pounding of a drum. The victim’s heart raced faster and faster, like a wild animal trying to escape its predator. Suddenly, the attacker grabbed him from behind, throwing him to the ground with a sickening thud.

The victim’s body convulsed with pain as his attacker began to torture him. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the empty streets, like the snapping of twigs underfoot. The victim’s screams were muffled by the attacker’s hand, but they still managed to escape, like the wail of a banshee.

The attacker’s face was twisted into a grotesque mask of pleasure as he inflicted more pain on his victim. The sound of flesh tearing filled the air, like the ripping of fabric. The victim’s blood flowed freely, like a river of crimson.

As the victim’s life slowly slipped away, he could hear the sound of his attacker’s laughter, like the cackle of a madman. The pain was unbearable, like a thousand knives stabbing him at once. And then, finally, there was nothing but darkness.

The attacker stood over the lifeless body, his face still twisted into that grotesque mask of pleasure. He let out a final, triumphant laugh, like the roar of a lion. And then he disappeared into the night, leaving behind nothing but the sound of his victim’s final breath, like the whisper of a ghost.