There was a gleeful grin on the face of madness as the weapon was drawn from the ice chest. Pulling on a glove, the figure popped the blade free of the rubber mold and held it up to the blue light for inspection. A single word floated on the air. “Perfect.” The voice sounded neither male nor female, but simply mad. The time was now. The figure slid the knife back into the portable ice chest and covered it with a blanket of dry ice. Stepping out into the bright sunlight, the figure’s tanned and perfectly honed features turned up to give homage to the sun before starting out for a day at the beach. The selection was made easily. Only the perfect candidate would be the choice, and the knowledge of who that was could be seen very clearly and very quickly. “You little bastard.” The teenage girl kicked at the sand and the child who had spilled his red Kool-Aid all over her white bikini. “You are such a little retard,” she said haughtily before moving off and laughing with her friends, then settling on the lounge chair she had set up.
