"Look man, I really don't want to hurt you." I shrugged, then shook my head before lifting up my gun. "You know what, that's a lie. I really, really want to hurt you."

My mouth curled up into a grin. Though it wasn't so much of a grin as—well, baring my teeth. My mouth was the only thing he could see, the rest of my face covered in a shifting white mask that radiated a warm, golden glow that illuminated the darkened living room corner I stood in. One black tear drop was painted beneath my right eye for ornamentation, and that was it.

My costume was black, subtle, clothing that blended in with the darkness around me. Except for my right hand, encased in a white glove made up of the same material as my mask.

I imagined what he must have seen, a floating white mask and a clenched fist, shining from the darkness.

I imagined what his four year old daughter must have seen when he'd gotten home drunk one night, killing his wife and raping her, before dumping her broken body into the trash compactor.

She'd seen a monster.

And now so had he.  

The black painted raindrop slid down my cheek.

"You have been judged." I croned, smiling. I would enjoy this kill. "And found wanting. Your sin is Wrath. 'All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them' and all that. Justice will be administered." I smiled at him again, sweetly, hiding none of the delight in this kill from my face. Even the little he could see underneath the mask had him paling again, a dark stain spreading on his already soiled pants.

Because he saw death waiting for him in my smile.

The black painted raindrop reached the edge of my chin, to where the mask ended. And it slid off—changing color as it dropped onto the man's face. From the dull black of ordinary paint into a glorious, glowing white. Changing from a painted image into a three-dimensional droplet.

When the droplet touched his face, the man blinked.

A moment of stunned silence.

"I'm alive?" The pathetic fool whispered, voice cracking.

I crouched down. "Yes." I showed my incisors. "But you'll soon wish that merciful death brings her gift to you." I touched his forehead with my white gloved hand, barely swiping his skin with all five fingers.

Then I genuinely smiled as his tortured screams echoed throughout the night.

The overweight police officer arrived so slowly. He was too late, of course. They always were too late.

I didn't know why I still lingered at the edge of the light, watching the house. Where inside, agonized screams still pierced the night sky.

I heard the panicked call he made to the police station, yelling for backup.

I heard the gunshot that rang through the air as the man grabbed the gun I dropped next to him. And shot himself.

I wondered what his sin made him see.

And I walked away, into the dark.

I smiled at the doorman as I walked into the elegant skyscraper that housed the law firm I worked at.

"Good morning, Miss Adama. Did you walk here today?"

I stopped, interested at the note of worry that threaded his voice. "Of course, Simon. My loft is just a couple blocks down the street, after all."

"Well, I heard that that villian killed somebody else last night. So you best be careful, walkin' round the city by yourself."

"The villain? I wasn't aware we had a villian in our city?" I laughed, infusing subtle disbelief into my chiding tone.

He nodded, eyes gleaming. Simon was a true doorman, as eager to share gossip as the sun was to shine. "They're calling him Halo. 'Cause they say that he's all done up in a glowing white mask and one white glove, so that they seem to float, all heavenly like. They say he's going after the bad people, writing their sins on their forehead then carving a bible verse into their chest."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow and checked my watch. I could spare a few more minutes. I smiled indulgently at Simon. "If he's killing the bad people, then is he really a villain?" I could barely suppress my snort. Of course they thought I was a man. Sometimes, the stereotypes of females being less than males paid off, as they never suspected the woman. After all, there was a good reason why most of the serial killers that got caught were men. It's not like only men were murderers, it's just that society never expects that the meek little girl, the sad widow, the strong business woman, can lift a knife and stab.

He raised both hands, before winking at me. "That's for the lawyers to duke it out when they catch him, ma'am. Anyways, they haven't released the photos of the crime scene, right? But me cousin works for a friend who's dating the chief police inspector, and he told her the bible verse that was written on his chest. It's mighty strange, I'll tell you."

I simply waited. It had taken me a long time to choose the verse I had carved onto his skin.

"Lemme see if I remember it right. Yes, yes, it goes like this—'If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea'. Kinda poetic, seeing as how he killed his daughter." Simon shivered, then shrugged. "You know something, you might be right. A guy like that maybe deserved to die. I saw those pictures online of what he did to his family, and that's a sin for sure."

I didn't say anymore, just offered him a friendly pat on the shoulder and strode on.

As I walked into the elevator, I mused over the tibits Simon had given me. Halo. You know, I liked it. And then I scoffed. Those police officers just didn't see how I was doing them, doing the world, a favor. Trying to arrest me? They should be helping me bring those scumbags to true justice, instead of leeching away taxpayer dollars to provide a home and food for criminals.

My slight frown disappeared as the elevator ascended.

After all, true justice is often seen as cruelty. And mortals never understood. 

Yes. The ancient voice purred in my head. They never do understand.