Harbinger of Death

by Susan Cornford

I hunt at night, like an owl, finding my prey in the darkness. It is not evil, as some people would like to think, but only a matter of meeting my needs. This is the wisdom of natural, accumulated lore.

Slowly I walk down a side street in half-light, my acute sight and hearing alert. It is late but a long time until morning. I know there will be someone who will be leaving a party or taking a shortcut; I have stalked here before.

The click of stilettos on concrete, an unsteady rhythm, is now coming closer. A doorway enfolds me. Soon she makes her way past me and I can make out alternating pale and dark stripes on her top; she is a chipmunk! My laughter is swallowed and bubbles inside me like soda.

Pursuit begins as she stumbles, fumbling her phone from her pocket and speaking. ‘Jason? Please pick up, Jason. I’m sorry. I’m lost somewhere and I need you to come and pick me up. I’ll look for a street sign. I don’t know how I got here. I drank too much at that party. Jason, where are you? Oh, shit, please don’t break up! Please don’t! Oh, fuck it!’Phone goes back into pocket, on second attempt.

This is the part I like best; I can see what she is feeling and thinking as she hesitates, runs her hands through her hair, darts looks all around at unhelpfully blank buildings, stops, starts back toward me, then changes course again.

She does not realise that it is getting darker and quieter in the direction we are headed but my eyes and ears adjust accordingly. I move closer. She is starting to suspect now, looking back over her shoulder with her steps clicking faster. I do not want to spook her because she might get away at this point if things do not go as I hope. Not every hunt is successful, even if you have chicks at home to provide for

But she has tripped and fallen over so I am in luck. Quickly I move in for the slaughter, hitting her hard so that she will not scream. Into an alley so no one will see us and try to play hero. That has happened before and it is wasteful to kill more than you need to. My knife does its work and the business is finished: two pairs of earrings for my daughters and the ear is for me.