Bruce's overpowered Hummer caught up to the family's old dirty green Subaru in no time, and slowed down, not wanting to be conspicuous. Besides, he was getting too worked up, too excited. He was not a psychotic killer, killing for the mere pleasure of it, no he was much more then that. His work was purposeful, had reason. He did what he did, for that was what he was meant to do. He knew this because of the shadow. He had been stuck in a meaningless and hopeless life, when the shadow had come to him.

People had always called him blessed since birth. When people had called him the most beautiful baby they had ever seen, they were telling the truth, and that beauty stayed with him throughout his years. Curly blond hair, light blue eyes, a flashing smile, and a muscular body, though he never lifted weights. He was handsome, but also intelligent. Finishing at or near the top of his class every single year of school, but that wasn't all. He played soccer, basketball, and baseball all throughout high school, one of the top players in each sport. He had all this, and yet, he felt he had nothing.

Halfway through his second semester freshman year, he'd been riding the bus back to his dorm after class, eyes half closed, pondering his life. He had no clue what he was doing, where he was going, what he wanted. His life was chaotic, without purpose or meaning. It was depressing, feeling like he had no reason to live, nothing to live for. He had tried relationships, but they had never given him what he wanted, what he needed. He didn't know what he needed, but on that bus ride, he found out.

The bus hit a bump, and his eyes opened for a moment, and there it was. A shadow sitting next to a cute girl a couple seats away. Bruce opened his eyes again, disbelieving, but there it was. A shadow in the rough shape of a humanoid, just sitting next to this cute little girl with glasses, and Bruce knew. Suddenly, everything made sense.

He followed her to her dorm, knocked on her door asking for some printer paper. She couldn't say no to his face and let him in as she looked for paper. Her roommate had been gone. Everything was perfect, as if fate itself was working for him. He killed her quickly, knowing he was not doing this for pleasure, not doing this for his own sake. There was something greater at work. He made sure not to leave any prints, any evidence and left, making sure not to be seen close to her room. It had been quick and clean, and the case had never been solved. She had been the first, but certainly not the last, and he had yet to be caught.

Bruce saw the family pull off the highway, and Bruce followed. They headed to a hotel, and Bruce nodded, grinning. The car parked, the family exited, and with them, the shadow. Perfect.