Advaita wasn't a stranger to common sense. She knew that going for a midnight walk in the park was ridiculous and risky, especially with all the talk of murders in the past week.

Yet, even as her mind screamed obscenities at her, she pulled on her sneakers and slipped into her old hoodie. Tiptoeing to the front door, she let herself out of the house.

A part of her knew she should turn back. A part of her slowed her footsteps, reminding her of her warm bed, threatening her with images of the newspaper headlines from yesterday. That part of her was ignored by her need to step out. Her lungs burned for the cold air, her muscles itched for a brisk walk, or a hard run.

Eyes peering into the looming shadows, she walked towards the neglected park, drawn by the sashay of overgrown plants and flowering trees.

Her mind replayed all the articles on these murders. The first one, five days ago, had happened three blocks down. An old widow who lived alone was found hanging from the balcony with the cable wires wound around her neck.

Four days ago, the priest of the local temple was found stabbed, his throat slit to the bone. That had shaken them the most, to think that the men of God weren't safe. It had almost begun a communal spat among the religious fanatics, but the next day, when an unidentified woman was found burnt alive on the streets, things got scarier.

Why hadn't anybody heard her scream? Doused in enough petrol to fuel a dozen cars, why hasn't anybody caught scent of the inflammable hell in time to save her? Nobody knew.

Two days ago, it had been the colony's milkman, who was found drowned in a tub of milk in his backyard.

His two children had found him the next morning.

Last day was possibly the worst. A girl who had just passed her tenth grade, the pride of the colony for coming first in her school. She was found on her terrace, surrounded by torn books, blue in the face.

She had choked on paper. Someone had forced her to eat her textbooks.

Almost gagging, I shook my head, entering the park. The full moon glinted overhead, peeking from behind the heavy clouds, a woman in mourning. I walked to the abandoned swings, and sat on one, almost lulled by the creaking of the chains.

Gripping the chains tightly, I leaned back, staring at the clouded sky. Something about the night called to me, surging forward to meet me, a magical feeling of euphoria when I could feel the caress of nature.

I rolled my eyes at myself, laughing at the poetic thoughts. Slowly, the agitation in my bones seeped out, and I got up after a while, a smile on my face, heading back home.

Sneaking back onto my home, I peered into my roommate's room to check on her, and smiled at the sight of her drooling into her pillow like a cute little puppy.

I threw myself back into my bed, finally ready to sleep. The murders had frightened me, but now, I had a hope, a calmness in my heart that told me I needn't worry. I drifted off into a silent slumber.

It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I was shaken awake by my roommate.

"God, Lilly, what is wrong with you? I need my sleep!" I groaned, rolling over to look at her.

Her pale face told me that sleep was the last thing I needed.

"Lata, they found a new victim," she trembled, blinking fast, " he had woken up in the middle of the night, and told his wife that someone was at the apartment gate and that he was going to investigate."

"Who? Where?" I asked impatiently, jumping out of my bed.

"They found our watchman at that old park, Lata. He was hanging upside-down from the frame of the swing set, his head severed from his neck." She broke down, terrified.

She didn't notice me, frozen in step, one hand inside my hoodie, staring. She didn't notice the speckles of blood on my sneakers.

I did.

A/n:
Long time, huh? Let me know what you think. What could have happened? Any theories?
Toodles for now!