Footsteps in the Dark

In the slums of Whitechapel, Maureen paced the streets doing the only work she knew. A light moisture covered the street with a low hanging fog as the likely culprit. This early in the morning the sun was not yet up. Few people traveled at this time. In the distance the clacking of hooves could be heard as they struck the cobblestone as a carriage scurried away. Maureen was ready to call it a night and head home. As she rounded the corner a chill crept up her spine. She pulled her shall tighter around her neck and kept walking. Maureen finally realized what was nagging at her, she could hear footsteps behind her. She slowed to a stop and peered around but could see no one. There were many shadowed areas and she was certain within one of those shadows was her stalker. Perhaps this particular John was shy but something told Maureen that this was not the case. Maureen had to deal with all different walks of life but never had she felt such fear! She started to walk again listening closely and again could hear the footsteps behind her. Now she hastened her step, safe harbor was not far away. She began to run her legs propelling her forward as if they were moving of their own volition. Her heel snagged in a crack in the sidewalk, sprawling her headlong onto the concrete. The footsteps were close now and out of the shadows an ominous figure appeared. Frantically, Maureen attempted to pull herself to her feet but to no avail. The scream that had been building died in a sickly gurgling sound as a knife plunged into her throat. Her limp body fell back to the ground her blood pooling around her. Once the grisly deed was done, the footsteps receded back into the darkness.