The watcher sat unmoving across the street from Bruce’s apartment, oblivious to anything else until he sensed that Bruce had gone to sleep. A few moments sufficed to assure the watcher that the immediate area was secure, and the watcher loped off to satisfy a deep need.
The neighborhood was a bad one, so it was only after a few blocks that the watcher found what he wanted. A young man sat at a red light in his car, with the window down. Worse, the man was talking to someone on the phone, and so was paying no attention to his surroundings. But it was not that man who the watcher found interesting. The watcher peered intently at the other young man coming round the car from behind and the side, who raised his pistol and put a shot into the shoulder of the driver, before opening the car door and throwing him to the ground.
Stunned by the surprise and the hot pain in his shoulder and chest, the driver paled in fear as he saw the carjacker aim the pistol in his face to finish the job.
Then the driver saw the gunman stop, stand bolt upright with a look of terror at some unseen monster, then raise the gun to his own head.
Three quick shots, and the gunmen fell to the ground, dead by his own hand. Writhing in his own pain, the driver did not stop to consider how strange it was that the gunman could shoot himself three times in the head.
The watcher smiled grimly at his game, and moved on to find more amusement. Before the sun came up, a would-be rapist would cut off his own genitals before a terrified young woman, a burglar would use the acetelyne torch he carried for breaking into a store on his own face, and an executive who had meant to carry out a perfect embezzlement of his company would wake to suddenly realize that he had instead e-mailed evidence of his plan to the CEO, the local newspaper, and the district attorney.
The watcher settled back to watching Bruce’s apartment with some satisfaction.