Reuben

 The green digital display turned to 6:47.

The stranger slowly scanned the room again. They were wary of being spotted and hunched their back slightly to present a smaller target.

"Hon, your food'll be out soon. Sorry for the wait but as you  an see we're pretty full tonight." The waitress, Janet, probably not her real name, startled the stranger again. She had stopped by three times with similar updates. Each time she seemed to come out of nowhere. The stranger was not usually taken by surprise. It was not an experience they enjoyed. 

Janet disappeared as silently as she had appeared. The stranger went back to surveying the room for any threats. Their left arm still ached from Spencer's lucky cut a few days ago. They were still upset with themself for missing that he was holding a scalpel. 

"Ok, here's your sandwich and Fred was able to get your fries nice and crispy. Anything else I can get for you hon?" The stranger was able to stifle a jump this time. They shook their head and Janet disappeared once more.

The sandwich was gone far too quickly but it had been a long day and the stranger had skipped both lunch and breakfast. Again. As they sat watching the room and more slowly enjoying the crisp french fries there were headlights outside. 

That was not a parking spot, they remembered the hydrant was there. The stranger hoped for a tow truck to come by before the car was moved but knew it wasn't likely to happen. 

Their attention was drawn to the reporter at the window. He was on his phone shaking his head and typing with one hand. The confirmation of his scoop must have finally come in. Good for him.

The stranger heard a muffled sound that didn't make any sense.

The window shattered and everything went black for the stranger.  

Stuart

 The green digital display read 6:18.

Stuart's fingers ached as he gripped the steering wheel. His wrists had a different kind of ache from the chains that held him to the steering column. There was just enough slack for him to freely turn the wheel. He kept an even speed and tried not to look at his passenger in the backseat. 

The passenger had a gun poking into the back of the Stuart's seat. He couldn't see it but the passenger had shown it when Stuart woke up chained to the wheel. It was a nightmare. After his initial panic the passenger hit him with the gun and gave him instructions to drive at a normal speed without pulling any stunts. When they got to their destination the passenger would leave the car and the key for the chains on the front seat. Stuart would wait five minutes before he could use the key and exit the car himself.

It all seemed very reasonable to Stuart, for being chained up at gunpoint. 

The passenger would utter "turn right here" or "the next left up there" occasionally. Stuart tried not to think of his wife and son as he dutifully followed directions. 

But the thoughts kept creeping in. He could not keep from remembering how he tampered with his wife's car. He was no master mechanic but he found out various things he could do to make the car unsafe to drive. She had no concept of anything to do with the car aside from getting from here to there.

It only took a week or so for his effort to succeed. When the police came to inform him of the fatal crash he put on a good show for them. It was all- "stop right here." The passenger didn't mean at the fire hydrant. 

"I said stop!" There was no argument to be had. Stuart stopped where he was told. 

The passenger went over the instructions again and set the key on the front passenger seat as close to the door as was possible. "Remember, five minutes. I'll be watching. If you try anything before then you'll get a bullet."

Stuart watched in the side mirror as the passenger went down the street away from the car. After a short time clenching his eyes shut to try to make the whole ordeal go away, he opened his eyes and looked around. 

It was mostly little shops on the ground floors around him with presumably apartments upstairs in the older buildings. He looked to the right and saw he was parked in front of a little cafe. He reconsidered. Perhaps it was more of a diner, he would really need to see the inside to tell for sure.

There was still two minutes left before he could grab the key and get out of this predicament. Stuart felt the heatwave and had the sensation of floating off the seat as the detonation engulfed the car.

Jasper

 The green digital display read 6:40.

Jasper tried to ignore the din of the nearly full diner. He liked to come here to work on his articles as he nursed the bottomless cup of coffee that wasn't bad. He'd order some food off and on throughout his time at one of the little tables by the window. He could spend time thinking of the words to use and turning the leads he'd uncovered over in his mind as he stared blankly into the street. 

The deadline for this article was quickly approaching and Jasper still needed a final confirmation from another source before he could send it to his editor. The old desk sergeant from downtown always had trouble with the simple cellphone Jasper had gotten for him to keep in contact more discreetly. It was always down to the wire with that guy but he was the most solid source Jasper ever dealt with. 

He fidgeted with the keyboard. Moving a word here and there and deleting a comma he knew his editor would add back in later. But it helped to pass the time as he waited.

Jasper was drawn out of his focus by the half-heard conversation from the next table. He shook his head as he assessed the situation at that table. That poor bastard was about to get dumped and he was totally unaware that was even a possibility. Poor bastard. 

The phone buzzed and Jasper impatiently let it ring three times before answering. He tried to get to the point quickly but knew the old sergeant needed a moderate amount of coaxing before giving a definitive answer. 

Jasper clicked the send button on his screen and sat back with a sigh. He saw the flash but never heard the shattering glass.

Ralph

 The green digital display read 6:28.

Ralph followed her up the narrow steep and winding staircase. There were only two floors in the building and it seemed as if they should have reached the top floor already. 

"So this place has some... charm." He was almost out of breath but managed to get the words out without sounding too feeble. 

She looked over her shoulder as she reached the landing, "it was built back in the early 1900s but they've kept it up pretty well." She smiled. She could tell he was trying to hide how worn out the stairs made him. It was cute. 

She tapped on the door and waited a moment before trying the knob. "Hello? I've brought my friend I told you about." There was a muffled voice from somewhere deep in the room and she turned to Ralph. "He said we should take off our shoes."

Ralph admired the eclectic decor of the apartment. It was several rooms each more eclectic than the last. From tribal art to old machinery to nicely framed landscape paintings, he was almost overwhelmed by it all.

They found the resident in what was obviously his gallery. The old man was naked and seated on a tall stool in front of a blank canvas. He stood and shook hands before positioning his guests on the bench in front of the canvas. 

It was a short visit to prepare the pose for the portrait she had talked Ralph into sitting for with her. The trip down the stairs was almost as precarious as the trip up. She had an early morning so they parted ways on the street leaving Ralph to his thoughts as he strolled back to his apartment. 

As he passed that old diner he considered going in for a quick bite. No it was almost full. As Ralph turned back to his route there was a flash and that was it.

Bobby

 The green digital display read 6:46.

Bobby smiled as they sat at the table they liked by the window. It was the best seat in the little cafe, at least he liked to think so. He knew what he wanted to order but picked up the laminated menu to look it over anyway. 

He was trying not to look at his companion too much because he did not want her to see how nervous he was. "So the cafe is pretty full tonight" he thought some small talk might help keep him calm.

"It's not a cafe. It's more of a diner. There's a big difference."

Bobby nodded agreement and smiled. She was probably right. She was usually right about that sort of cultural stuff. That was one of the many reasons he was going to ask her to move in with him. That and the way she ran to get out of the rain. Her laugh, when she let herself laugh. 

He couldn't wait until after they ordered. It was time.

"I'm glad you were available tonight, it's been a few days since we've gotten together. You know, we've been dating for quite some time now and I think it might be good for us to- to start talking about where we take things from here." He sighed, he couldn't believe he'd made it through the start of it all at once.

She looked confused, that was not what he was expecting. She started to say something but hesitated. Bobby's heart sunk but then she cleared her throat and asked, "so you think we should break up too?"

Bobby felt warm and tried to find the words to correct her. His reply was lost in the roar of the explosion. There was a flash and the window shattered into jagged shards. Bobby was peppered with dozens of those shards and was gone before his mind could register any of what was happening. 

Dr. Spencer

 Dr. Spencer was not actually a doctor,  but he liked to think of himself that way. He had referred to himself as doctor ever since he had been kicked out of medical school. He had managed to force the member of the school administration that he blamed most for his removal to call him doctor. 

A smile snuck onto Spencer's face as he fingered the jar holding the administrator's eyeball. He took stock of the specimen jars lining his special shelf. He lost himself in the memories of each surgery he had performed in his operating theater. It was not an actual operating theater  but a corner of his basement he had personally installed a drain and tiled in aqua green. So many surgeries had been performed there.

Spencer continued smiling and looking over his specimen collection. Everything from the eyeball, to a spleen, to a section of a carotid artery. That one made him giggle at the memory of that patient. 

He was lost in the memories for some time. Spencer was brought back to the present by the feel of the jar at his side. He had almost forgotten what he was doing because of the beauty of his collection. But now this latest specimen could take it's place with the others.

Spencer jerked away from the shelf and looked at the stairs. It sounded like the front door but that could not be the case. It was locked and no one ever came to visit, not willingly. He carefully pulled the scalpel from the pocket of his lab coat. 

He listened as hard as he could but only heard his heartbeat roaring in his ears. He found himself halfway up the stairs but could not remember walking over to them. A deep breath helped steady him a little. 

It was over before Spencer knew what had happened to him. He slowly opened the door at the top of the stairs and was startled by the dark figure in the doorway. There was a flash as the figure lashed out with a knife. Spencer gasped as he fell back and tumbled down the stairs unable to comprehend the fatal cut.

The stranger felt their left bicep and let out a grunt. The bastard must have had a blade that caught that arm as he flailed before falling back. There was some blood but it was nothing serious. 

Karbaka

 Karbaka let out a roar as he reached the top of the small rise. His weapon spat death to the feeble defenders below him in their makeshift fortifications. They were no more than piles of wood or other materials that the defenders were able to gather when they realized Karbaka's army was closing in on their settlement.

The defenders made an doomed counter charge at Karbaka himself but it was scattered as Karbaka's troops finally caught up with their leader and fell upon the defenders. 

Karbaka proudly watched the mayhem play out before him. He took shots at the defenders when the opportunity arose. Then came the shot.

The sniper had patiently waited to get a clear view of Karbaka's face. He squeezed off the fatal round and muttered a curse before seeking other targets to try and help the faltering defense. Despite taking out the leader of the attackers the day was far from won.

Squirreliana

Based on actual events. 

He arched  his body as he jumped twice landing a foot or so from the side of the road. He stood tall and looked at the tree across the road that was his current goal. 

He quickly crawled to the middle of the road and then turned back. He didn't stop until he was back in the grass.

He looked around and decided it was safe to venture back into the road. He heard something coming along the road and started to run forward across the road but changed his mind and started back towards the grass.

He stopped before getting to the grass and turned back to cross the road. The large thing was getting closer but he knew he could make it and dashed to the other side of the road.

He stopped and looked as the thing passed by. He then turned to look for the tree. There it was, not very far away now.

He crouched and started to move carefully again through the grass. There was a darkness that caught him by surprise. Was it a bird? What was it?

It was over before he could react.

The small car flag twisted halfway and came to rest a foot or so from his lifeless body.

Anne

Anne locked the door and checked that it would not open. She lifted back the small curtain over the little window in the door just enough to peek out to make sure no one was near the house on the street.

The door to the basement creaked as Anne opened it and descended into the dark. At the bottom of the stairs she flipped the switch to turn on the light. She made her way to the workbench on the far side of the basement.

On the workbench there was a sewing box and a photo album. Anne opened the album slowly, savoring the feel of the fake leather cover as she anticipated the contents she would see.

Page after page was neatly filled with photographs of young women's head and neck. If she didn't know better she would think they were sleeping. Her eyes focused on each neck, admiring the slight bruising around the pink ribbon tied into a simple bow. 

Anne was startled by the squeak of metal springs off in the corner of the basement. She took a deep breath and tried to stifle a smile. "It's okay, dear. It will only be a little while now."

She opened the sewing box and gently lifted a length of pink ribbon out. Then she turned and slowly walked toward the cot in the corner. Anne ran the pink ribbon through her fingers as she walked.

"It will be over soon, dear." Anne knelt by the cot while wrapping part of the ribbon around her left hand.

Rollins

 "...and I popped him twice. Poor bastard looked so surprised it still makes me laugh. " Rollins giggled and took another swig of his beer. The handful of fellows he was drinking with congratulated him and patted him on the back before dispersing around the bar. One of the fellows stayed by his side.

"So how many does that make, detective?"

Rollins grunted and took another swig, "a gentleman doesn't keep track." He let out a loud belch that drew some cheers from nearby fellows. "But I ain't never been accused of being a gentleman." 

They laughed together and Rollins put his half-empty beer on the bar. "Keep an eye on that while I hit the head."

Rollins entered the tiny restroom and went about his business at the single urinal. He turned his head slightly when the door opened and someone else entered. 

"Sorry, pal, the line forms there unless you're brave enough to go in that filthy stall." He smirked pleased with his witty banter skills.

The stranger moved closer but Rollins was having none of it. "Whoa! This ain't that kinda bar!" He let out a muffled shout as the knife pierced his skin. 24 years on the force and he had only been hurt once. Now he was going to die in Clancy's bathroom. 

Rollins fell forward and slumped to the floor knocking the urinal off one of the anchors. 

The stranger turned off the light as they exited the disgusting little room.

Claude

Claude sighed as the headlights that had been following him for over a half hour turned off the road. He was certain they were not actually following him but caution was always necessary after leaving the burial site.

This latest trip had been very satisfying. She had been so trusting when they met on the street. Claude felt his manipulation skills had gotten even better in the last few months. It took almost no time to convince her to get into the car.

He thought back on how smoothly the whole ritual went. From start to finish there were no delays or disruptions. It was almost like she had been a willing participant in the activity. 

Claude smiled as he pulled into the driveway. He had made good time. He would be able to get some extra sleep before the events of the new day.

There was movement in the back seat. Claude tried to turn around but something held him in place. He felt his energy seeping away. It couldn't end like this, there was too much left to do.

The back door opened and the stranger got out. The stranger pulled the knife out of the back of the seat and closed the door.

Alphonse

 Alphonse pulled the collar of his jacket higher in a vain attempt to keep the sleet and wind from stinging his face. He was muttering to himself about his nemesis. She was less of a nemesis than a coworker who barely knew his name, but Alphonse had convinced himself that everything she did was to block his success.

Tonight he was going to put an end to her interference. 

"There it is." He saw her building just a block away and noted the light in what was most likely her apartment. It would be over soon. He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. His hand felt the small pistol in his pocket and a satisfied grin formed on his lips.

Another pedestrian brushed past him with a slight nudge. Alphonse had not noticed that the streets had been mostly empty despite the rather early evening hour. Yet this jerk had bumped into him on the otherwise empty street. 

She could wait to get what was coming to her, this guy needed to feel the wrath of Alphonse right now.

He turned and started to yell something like "hey buddy!" All that came out was a weak croaking grunt sort of sound. 

Alphonse tried to clear his throat, the weather had probably just gotten to him on the long walk. He felt a wetness on his chin and reached up to wipe it away. There was blood on the back of his hand.

Panic crept in and he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He then felt the pain and a spreading wetness in his side. It was where the other pedestrian had bumped him. 

Alphonse fell to the sidewalk and blood poured out of him mixing with the light layer of sleet. His last thoughts were more blame for his nemesis. This would not have happened to him if it weren't for all the trouble she caused.