He had waited twenty years to return the favour.

As he stared down at the disfigured corpse, he knew it was no one other than his old friend. Staring at the body only brought sinister thoughts to mind and he had to hold back a smile at the week's outcome.

"It's him. It's Chase." The people surrounding him were full of suspense for the reaction he will have after acknowledging and identifying the body of a friend. His lack of response, however, was not something completely not normal, but a breakdown in tears was the most common.

They covered his caved in face and began wheeling him away.

"I apologise for bringing you out here, it appears that he had no family or friends that were available to identify him."

"It's alright. I mean, it's not a good thing but at least he will be buried with a name."

"I understand that this may be hard for you, even after so many years of lost contact, a friend is always a friend. If you feel..."

The man rumbled on, through one ear and out the other, he could only scratch his palm in desperation to leave.

"Yes, I believe it is more of a shock than I expected it to be. I think I should go home and rest."

He ended the conversation and left swiftly without waiting for a response.

The hour drive home was silent and putrid.

Despite being four days later, the rotten smell of blood and flesh was not something to disappear without engraving itself into your very life. It was strange though, the odour was only now starting to diminish, but like an addict he wanted more, he missed it, he craved it. He wasn't sure if it was the smell that was pursuing his thoughts, but when he spotted a young man walking the streets, he could not help but pull over.

Winding down his window to meet the face of a startled young man excited him in a way that a woman couldn't even achieve.

Within that week, he would be identified as a serial killer.

Within a month, he acquired his own methods.

Within two months, his deeds were known to the world.