Greetings.

Cathyia's entire life was like a fairytale book, but she was the villain. She knew that more than anything, and she was certain of it. After all, she was a famous killer. She walked along the concrete sidewalk of the London avenue, the cold night breeze whooshing past her face once in a while. She didn't realize how tired her legs would be after this walk, but she was almost there.

"Hey! What're you doing here late at night?"

She turned around to find a police officer that was trying a little too hard to stuff an entire bagel in her mouth.

"Uh- I was just admiring the coats in this shop. They're quite beautiful, aren't they?" She pointed to a window to her left.

The other woman could not find a way to communicate with half of a bagel stuck in her mouth, so she decided to take it out just for the moment and said, "Yeah, they really are! Anyways, you seem really nice, I'm Via! Via Evans, I wanted to become a detective actually, but they said that I was better with guns, so here I am, a police officer."

She kept on rambling on and on, but Cathyia was only focused on one thing. Via, Via Evans. She knew someone with the same name. Her mind flashed back to years ago, the lonely eyes of a girl begging her dad to let her stay at the school where they went, and tiny Cathyia holding the girl's hand. Via. Via Evans. This had to be the same person, the features and the dark hair matched perfectly, even though the woman behind them looked older and a bit more sophisticated. She was so desperate to tell her that she was Cathyia, to see if the girl still remembered her, but she knew that couldn't happen. She was a killer. No one needed to get wrapped up in that. She concocted a lie. Cathyia wasn't an innocent girl anymore.

"I'm Evelyn, nice to meet you."

"Well, Evelyn," Via said, about to stuff the bagel in her mouth again, "that was a fun interaction, but you should go home, you never know if there's a murderer just walking around at night. I heard that they prefer to use the shadows at midnight to hide and find their victims."

That's only half right, though, she thought to herself. "Then, I guess this is goodbye, hm?"

"Yes ma'am," was all Via could say with her mouth stuffed.

They walked away from each other. Cathyia reached her destination a little bit down the same road. She opened the door of the hat shop as the bell sounded.

Ding.

"We're closed," a girl at the front desk said.

"Yes, I realize that, but could I please talk to the owner of this place? I believe he is usually in the shop this time of the week."

"The shop is closed, madame. You can come back tomorrow." The girl tried to turn Cathyia toward the door and gave her a little shove.

Cathyia tilted her head and smiled. "Then pardon me for what I'm about to do."

She stepped up to the confused woman, and with a swift swing, she collapsed to the floor. Blood splattered all around, as Cathyia's hand was now holding a sharp knife, the edge tinted with a dark red glow, the color of blood.

"Aw, blasted. My clothes are ruined now," she whispered to herself as she made her way to the room at the back of the shop. She stopped when she heard his voice, Lord Lowell, yes, that was his name. He seemed to be on the phone, debating with some random person about business. Cathyia waited until he hung up, then stepped into the room.

"Hands up, imbecile."

Lowell stared at the weapon in Cathyia's hand, pointing straight at him.

"I said, hands up. Drop the phone."

He did.

"Good. Now, let's talk about real business."

"Are you from the government? I swear, it wasn't me-"

"Do you see a police badge on me? Look, you murdered three widows along with their children for your own entertainment, and probably committed more unrecorded illegal acts. However, the government is made up of cowards, so they refuse to arrest you. Pathetic, isn't it? You believe that women are weaker than men and are only alive to provide service to them? I'm about to show you the truth."

Lowell forced out a burst of nervous laughter. "Wa-what're you going to do?"

"I'm cleaning up the government's leftovers." With those words, black mist started to rise up from the ground, twisting and straining to reach the knife in her hand. When the two touched, the mist surrounded the handle of the knife. Cathyia let go of the only weapon she had on her, as it was floating in mid-air by itself by then.

"What is that?" Lowell whispered, words caught up in his throat.

"This?" Cathyia laughed like nothing weird was happening at all. "This is the power of God."

With that, the knife launched itself at the man's neck, cleanly slicing through it. After a minute, he dropped from his chair onto the carpet floor, dead.

She went back to the front desk to silently whisper a "rest in peace" to the dead girl after closing her eyes and taking out a rose to put in her hands. She grabbed a hat, pulled the short, fishnet veil down to cover her own face, and left the shop.

When the bodies were found the next morning, Cathyia mixed in with the crowd in front of the hat shop. They gathered behind two detectives with one police officer in the center.

She recognized her. Via Evans. She had a serious face on, but she looked like she was dying to say something. The detectives got stuck, and Cathyia saw one of them turn to Via and asked for her opinions on the case.

"Well, personally, I believe that you would need guts to kill a member of the nobility, especially using the method of stabbing. And especially with the fact that the killer has not left any footprints on the carpet. They must be experienced. Maybe they had some sort of grudge to settle with Lord Lowell. This must be the fourth victim of our serial killer."

"So, the Blood Reaper has struck again?" One of the detectives asked.

"Indeed."