He carefully put his head back down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face, grabbing a backpack as he As the Smiley face killer left the warm, comfortable embrace of his home, he smiled. He knew what the lord demanded of him. He demanded a smile on the prophet’s face, and so he shall deliver. He calmly pushes the cold, steel blade into the back of his pants, watching his irksome neighbor approach him. The killer’s eyes flashed an anger like no other, watching this excuse for a human roam the world… his beady little eyes violating his neighbor’s wife over, and over again… but alas, there are rules in the lord’s eyes. Innocent until they prove themselves otherwise. Until they commit the crime, they shall live. “Well, hey there Lucky!” The neighbor greets warmly, without breaking pace, the smiling murderer replied with,

“Only my friends call me Lucky, Jim, You know that.”

“Well, aren’t we friends Lu-” The neighbors words are cut off by a dangerous stare. A warning of something to come. Jim takes a step back nervously, muttering out “I- I guess not…” before nervously trotting back to his house, most likely to stare at someone else’s wife while they shower. Lucky shakes his head, keeping the eerie grin.

“What disgusting excuse for human life.” He muttered under his breath, watching the man clamber into his house, to commit some dirty act. Lucky calmly turned his head from the house, pushing the thoughts out of his head, and pushing into his mind thoughts of justice, dignity, and pride. Those unaffected by the sins before them, shall survive beyond the purge. The purge of evil from the world. The law… they do their best, and that is honorable, but sometimes this horrid scum slips through the cracks… so that’s where the justice of the smiling god must come forth. It’s when the prophet of his lordships shall step forward to take care of this utter garbage. As these thoughts fill his head, he keeps walking down the path, oblivious to the outside world. Their confused looks, and oddly interested stares, as he continues to smile. His lips curtaining back to reveal pristine, white teeth. Like a picket fence, or ivory daggers. Row after row shown quite clearly, and yet he continues. Never tiring of the act. As the odd man walks into the rich part of the district, he looks quite out of place. Sticking out like a sore thumb as he slowly makes his way past the perfect mansions, before coming to the last, and the biggest, on the block. His target wasn’t home, that was obvious. There wasn’t a car in the driveway, but… what was that? Ah, he understands. He calmly moves to the door, taking off his pack to pull out a case of lockpicks, and sliding them in. Finagling with it in an attempt to get it loose. He knew the target was still at work, but His schedule indicated that there was something more valuable at this point though… The target’s family.