The lean figure crept silently through the night. He vaulted over a low fence, and landed cat-like on the dew covered grass that lay behind it.
He paused, momentarily dissolving into the darkness as a group of drunken teenagers ambled past his stationary form.
In what seemed like one graceful movement, he had crossed the well kept garden and stood facing his method of entry into the house.
Briefly, looking around himself once more, he wondered whether the inhabitants cared for the gardens themselves, or had hired help. He came to the conclusion it was the latter.
Checking, as he had many times that night, that the bag he wore was securely strapped to his chest, he grabbed the trellis that lined the walls of the house, and began to climb.
He reached the window sill in under a minute, but as he began to swing himself up onto the ledge, he caught a glimpse at the ground below him. A wave of nausea crashed over him, and he gripped the wood so tightly he felt his knuckles ache in protest.
Lord, he hated heights. Made him feel weak.
A thin film of sweat began to work its way down his back, and he instantly felt unclean. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker he could go and take a shower.
After a minute of trying to control his breathing, he continued with his work. Checking the window latch, he smiled to himself when he saw that, as expected, it was unlocked.
He eased it open slowly, careful not to make it squeal or creak. Once it was open far enough, he carefully fed himself through the gap, wary of knocking anything over.
Landing on the carpet silently, he ran his hands over the bag to make sure it was still attached to him. It was. He sat on his haunches for a few seconds, listening to the deep, rhythmic breathing of the woman not three feet away from him. It calmed him slightly.
Once recovering from the brief scare out on the window sill, he removed his bag, and set about the task at hand. Grabbing a small cloth, he picked up a bottle and doused the cloth in the liquid.
Leaning over her sleeping form, he clamped his strong, muscular hands over her nose and mouth, cutting off the clean air supply, and forcing her to inhale the toxic fumes.
Her eyes snapped open in terror. She stared at him, pleading with her soft brown eyes, but he glared blankly in return, almost as though we was looking through her.
`He felt her body begin to relax; her struggles became weaker and weaker. His eyes shot back to look into hers during the final seconds of consciousness. He gritted his teeth as he pressed the cloth harder against her face and let out a victorious hiss as the light dimmed in her eyes.
Now the real work could begin. During the brief struggle, he had climbed over her to put his full wieght behing his hands. Now he clambered off her, and replaced the sodden cloth with a length of razor wire. He swapped the thin latex gloves he had used to gain entry into the house with a thicker, stronger pair, that wouldn't get slashed as easily.
Positioning himself over the body again, he lined up the first razor. With a little pressure, he pushed the first razor into the woman's pale skin, slicing through her esophagus; there was no resistance.
Once the first razor was in, he continued to place the rest of them at regular intevals around her neck until he had come full circle. Then he quickly grabbed it, and twisted, enlarging the current incisions until it formed one continuous wound around her neck.
Blood leaked all over the body, all over him, and all over the bedsheets. He sat there and watched it pool in the hollow of her throat, hardly daring to breath. He knew that she wasn't anymore.
He felt euphoric. Yet another had gone off without a hitch. He packed his things away into his bag again not bothering to clean them. He could do that later.
He slid back out of the window, and climbed down the trellis more carefully than when he had climbed up. He hated the part where he had to go down.
Landing on the ground with a soft thud, he checked one last time that his bag was strapped to his chest. He was nothing if not thorough.
Again, me blended perfectly into the darkness. No-one would have seen him even if they were looking for him.
With one last look at the house, Sean turned and smoothly vaulted over the low fence, before melting into the night.