The figure in black

It had seemed like a lively neighborhood. A plethora of job opportunities lined up for me, friendly people all around, a nice weather all year. This place was just perfect. And so, when I had newly shifted, my mind was free of any doubts or mishaps that could happen. All my acquaintances smiled a lot, all the kids liked to play, the trees over here were plush green and huge. A simple town with simple beliefs and a life devoid of any luxuries. I was content with what I had and everyone else was self sufficient. I was happy. Until recently.
The first victim was a 10 year old girl named Sarah. When questioned, her parents narrated the story by saying that they caught a figure in black talking to her just before she disappeared. A town like this, violence was noticed very easily. Things like these didn’t happen often. Sarah’s body was found lined by the dump yard. The police informed us that she was stabbed repeatedly until she was finally killed. What a vicious thing to do! remarked all. Sarah’s parents were drowning in their misery, crying all day. And this incident was how it all originated.
The second victim was an old man, Henry. He was very old, possibly the oldest man in our town and when he died, it wasn’t suspected of being a murder. Maybe he just died of old age remarked all. And so, when the police came around again this time telling us that it wasn’t natural death but a murder, it was a shock for everyone. They’d found stab wounds of the same width of the last murder which lead them to believe that the murderer was the same in both the cases. The fear in us grew sizably each day. Children stopped playing outside their houses, the adults stopped going out alone at night.
The third victim was a woman in her mid twenties. An aspiring model, she was fit and beautiful. And so when her flawless skin was found gashed with slits and her belly was found stabbed by a familiar knife, it was the last straw for the people. She was going to make our village famous! remarked all. The fear turned to anger and the nervousness to fury. People now slept with guns and knives kept next to their bed, they started learning self defense and now they were ready to strike back. They fitted strong locks on each door and let only familiar ones enter.
And so when the fourth victim, my neighbour, was killed, no one was prepared. It happened all of a sudden. All people wondered how the killer was so strong to break locks and they started investigating further. I was in a trance and I couldn’t believe it. At all. My neighbor was a strong man! He was a kind man with crinkling eyes and a soft smile. He deserved better! We all do! remarked all. All of the investigation led the people to believe that the killer was familiar and that’s why it was easy for him to kill. They promised to find the killer and give the rascal what he deserves!
The day after the death of my neighbor, at night around 10, I heard the bell ring. Fear crept over me as I walked to the door and turned the knob. There stood my neighbor’s wife, trembling with fear? fury? She explained that she was scared that the killer might strike her too and wanted permission to sleep at my house for the night. Brushing away all my doubts, I nodded yes. She smiled at me gratefully and walked over to the couch.
If anyone had come to my house that night, they would’ve seen a figure in black crouching over a sleeping human with a gleaming knife in hands and mad fury in the eyes. I wish they had. If they had, the poor poor woman would still be alive now.