by Budge Burgess

Created on: June 16, 2009

Day One of a new game was always a time of adrenalin avalanches sweeping away the barriers of doubt and uncertainty. He loved the excitement, the supercharged senses, that feeling of invisibility, of invincibility. He loved the adventure into anonymity, the sudden descent into a new town, an unknown figure, a stranger whom scores of people would swear had never left home, could never have been here.

He didn't so much walk down the steps from the station as prowl down them, predatory eyes scanning the road ahead, the soles of his feet searching for the town's pulse, his nostrils alert to any hint of a sacrificial offering.

It was a bright, sunny day, the first of the year. The sort of day which drew people onto the streets, innocently exposing themselves in shorts and T-shirts - vulnerable bodies worshipping the sunshine. He had so many to choose from, so many to discard. It was delicious, palpably delicious.

He threw his bag into the back seat of a taxi and settled down. He'd done his research, he'd picked out an anonymous little bed and breakfast place a mile from the town centre. The car wove its way through busy streets, then escaped into the calm of quiet lanes and avenues, with row after row of neat homes and respectable domesticity.

His B&B turned out to be a pleasant little house - Mrs.Angelou had room for three guests at any one time. His was the back room looking out over the yard, a rickety wooden garage, and the walled back alley which separated the rear of this row of houses from the ones opposite. The back alley might prove a useful asset.

He relaxed into his new environment. There was no hurry. He was in safe hands, even if he always had doubts. First night nerves - what if something went wrong back home, what if someone guessed, what if Alan made a mistake? First night nerves, first night nerves.

But first, he had a matinee to attend. He walked back to town, wandering along the back streets, eyeing the houses he passed, assessing their possibilities. He passed a couple of elderly people walking their dogs, a young woman with a toddler, a couple of teenagers. They looked ordinary enough. What he sought was variety.

Alan never knew where he'd gone, could never predict who he might choose, could not specify what modus operandi would be chosen. He enjoyed the fact that his less than evil twin was kept in the dark about his actions. He enjoyed that thrill of dependency coupled with the sense that he was conjuring

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