In the dark room, his face lit by the blue light of his phone, he sat sprawled out in an armchair, looking at the women advertising themselves online.
It was advertising how he called it, their social media presence, the poor beasts were merely living their lives in the open for the world to see.
The social media profiles were his menu and they were his feasts.
Geographic or location based groups made it very easy for him to know where they were to be found. After that, he would spend time following them, looking at their pictures, learning about their friends and families, likes and dislikes.
They were helping him become their worst nightmare.
Now, he was full, he didn’t need to go out hunting for a while, he had just finished one of his projects and was happy to revel in the memories.
It had been a particularly successful expedition. A young doe hungry for attention and validation.
Such easy prey.
Sometimes he would look in the mirror and congratulate himself for his cunning and wits. Nature had been good to him, not only was he exceedingly smart but he was exceedingly good looking.
As a young boy, at first, he had no idea of the impact his looks had on the people he met, until he slowly understood that they were nicer to him, more open, more forthcoming than they were with his pimpled, dumpling of a brother.
Life just opened up for him. School was easy without any kind of effort, if he needed anything he just needed to ask. When he applied for a job he got it from the first phase of interviews. It was all going smoothly until it didn’t.
Until he got bored and started despising everything. It was all too easy. They were all so unchallenged. In a strange way this awoke in him a need to make them suffer, to see them in pain.
Why didn’t they want more for themselves? How could they be so easily fooled?
His phone flashed a notification on the screen.
He smiled a crooked kind of smile that distorted his handsome features.
It was her, the doe.
Where are you? Please talk to me! I need to know you are alright!
Yup, she was well and truly cooked.
She would go on like that for a significant amount of time, until, eventually she would stop and then, depending on his mood, on what he was doing, he might or might not relight the fire of her despair with a message or an impromptu sighting when she least expects it.
Yeah, easy.
Easy like Sunday mornin’