You know, don't you?

His bloodshot eyes were what scared her the most. As ghastly and bloody looking as they were, it did not shut out his other grotesque features. He looked like he had not shaved for years now. His beards scattered all over his face like it was a battlefield.

His nails did not receive any attention either. They were long and sharp and looked more like claws. The unusual dark colour of lips was scary. It made Celine wonder if those were the same lips she once kissed. They were so unnaturally dark.

John looked unhealthy. Painfully slim, yet she knew not to judge by appearance. From the recent news that Celine gathered, he was more than you can handle. How did John change so much and within a short time, she wondered?

"What a pleasant surprise." The smile he gave her was disturbing, and it revealed yet another disconcerting feature of his. His teeth were a dark shade of yellow, with one of the front teeth broken at the tip and some of his teeth gone.

She could feel the goose pimples emerging out from her skin. It was not just about looks. It was the sudden change that unnerved her. Nothing showed that this was the handsome young man she fell for years back. The John she knew was stunning with a flashy set of teeth. His lips were a perfect shade of peach. How it turned so hideously black was just unfathomable. He was well-groomed back in those days. He took hygiene seriously back then but had that been all a façade?

"John." His name came out in a whisper like she was trying to make out the syllables.

She has been so demoralized by his looks and not to talk of the place she had to meet him. She roved her eyes to observe her surroundings.

It was a dark and abandoned tunnel. The only light source is a little candle placed on an improvised desk. It was more like woods jammed together to form a shape like a table. She could see other improvised furniture scattered all over the place. Each of them looked like it would collapse at any minute, and they all had a red ribbon tied on them. She wondered if he was trying to make her home. She imagined that he did not live here because only someone mentally unstable would want to live here.

The pile of drugs and cigarettes scattered in a small but sizable hole caught her attention. That explains this look. What has John done to himself? The feeling of disgust that was starting to develop had changed to pity. She looked up at him.

"Are you done observing? So what next?" John asked, his gaze firm on her. "Oh, I know what next," he continued "she is going to judge me. Judge me as you've always done because that's the only thing you're so good at." He clenched his jaw and stared at her, daring her to prove him right.

"I..." she was trying to speak up, but he interrupted "Just so you know, I do not care, Celine. I don't. Gone are the days when what you think mattered."

"John." After those harsh words, all she could do was call his name. She became lost for words.

"Why are you here, Celine!" his voice was a pitch higher, and he looked at her like the mere sight of her irritated him.

"I need you." That was the only thing she could say. Her voice was a whisper with her head bent low.

John laughed out loud. A sadistic laugh that was spine-chilling and made her shiver. "What did you just say?" He asked, his tone unusually calm in a way that made her feel uneasy.

"I said that I... need...," she started to stammer but never got to finish her statement because John interrupted her again.

"Are you seriously going to repeat that?" He glared at her. "Don't you have any shame left in you?! Or at least, are you not afraid of me now!" he screamed out.

Celine gasped, taken aback by his sudden screaming.

"You have the guts, Celine, to come here and say that?" he continued. "Same old you, same old you. Haven't you been the same old gallant Celine everybody knows?" He paused, then laughed out. "You were brave enough to come here in the first place."

Truthfully, she had mustered up all the courage in her to come here and meet John after all she had heard. She was putting her life on the line by coming to see him.

John was a wanted criminal. The police had not traced the series of killings happening in the city. But she knew. She knew it was him. The instant the police recorded the first pattern in the murders. The killer had slaughtered a pregnant woman, brought out the premature baby and tied a red ribbon around its neck. That was how she knew it was him.

The red ribbon. John always had an inhuman obsession with that colour of ribbon. Series of the same kind of murder has been occurring after that.

John walked over to her. He came so close, close enough that she could hear his breathing. She tried not to panic, not wanting to give John any hint that she was scared out of her wits. Folding his right index finger, he placed it under her jaw and slowly raised her head for her to look at him. He stared down at her. He stared down at her for a whole two minutes. It took everything in her not to break eye contact, to relieve herself of the dreadful sight of those bloody eyes. But that would only be a hint that she was scared of him.

Gradually a psychotic grin appeared on his face, stretching from ear to ear. Celine shivered. That was one thing she couldn't control.

"You know, don't you?"