Saucy Jacky

Crimson pearls fell to the ground as she clutched at her throat; the only sound, an incessant gurgle. 
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed. 
The coppery scent of her blood filled the air, as the meticulous hands of her dark assailant went to work; his breathing was harried, and manic. 
With silent satisfaction, he stood back, and observed the macabre spectacle that he'd created. 
The hoofbeats which signaled the approach of his cab, sounded slow, and hesitant; his driver did not approve. 
Calmly, he straightened his cape, and hat, for there was more work to be done on this night.

Running Late

"Where the hell are they?" he bellowed, as he unceremoniously cleared his desk of papers, and garbage.

"I know I left them in here!"

Doubting himself, he left his office, Stormed through the living room, and began tossing the pillows, and cushions.

"Damn it to hell!"

Then, a lightning bolt of clarity struck him; he ran to the basement.

After clearing the remaining limbs of his latest victim from the second-hand examination table, he found his missing keys.

"Thank you, God!" he proclaimed, before running to his car.

Someone's got be on time to teach Sunday School, after all.