by Krystle

Created on: December 22, 2008

The assailant took a deep breath as he watched all five women through the tall window on the right side of the terrace. They were dressed identically; all of them wore a black robe that hung until their ankles, a silver bracelet on their right wrist, and a red pendant that hung around their necks. They were seated in an oval shape, leaving space in the middle. He tilted his head to see what the women were up to, what lay in the middle of the oval. What he saw did not surprise him at all; a pentacle had been drawn in the middle with white chalk, and white candles burned at all five corners of the pentacle, their lights flickering, illuminating the otherwise dimly-lit room. A leather-bound book lay open on one of the women's side. She seemed to be leading the group in what looked like a ritual.

These five women, the assailant was told before he made his way here, were part of a coven which did not believe in one God, but in Nature. They had regular rituals in one of the members' homes to commemorate their close relationship with Nature, often using flowers and natural items' like rocks or wood as symbols. Personally, the assailant thought that witchcraft and covens were unreal and a waste of time, and felt that he didn't need to know, in extent, the belief of these women for him to do his job tonight. He hovered at the window, unnoticed, for a few more minutes as he planned and organised. Tonight, it will all end.

It was a nice night; peaceful, undeceiving. There was no sign of evil in the stars that glimmered in the night and the moon that shone brilliantly. The assailant could not think of a more perfect setting for what he was about to do.

The house was a simple house; security was not an issue to these women, apparently. He climbed a pipe to one of the second floor rooms, and balanced one leg on the ledge as he used his pocket knife to unclasp the window lock. The window was unlocked. Pushing the window open, he let himself into the dark room. He walked to the top of the stairs, listening for the women, and smiled when he realised that the women were still occupied with their activity'.

The chants were growing louder from the living room as he descended the stairs, and an odd smell filled the atmosphere. He didn't enter immediately, but leaned on the wall that allowed him a view of the women, though they could not see him. The assailant thought that they were so occupied with their ritual that they might not even have noticed him if he danced where he stood.

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