For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the man left his home without the intent of ending a life. He left not with an worn out bloodstained hoodie on, but simple street clothes perhaps one might not look twice at. His dark hair still lay over his face, covering the damage he'd done to it, just in case anyone walking by would have happened to see him. Naturally, the killer didn't expect to see anyone on his walk, but in case he did, his knife was still securely strapped to his hip.
He felt a slight shiver, and narrowed his eyes, unsure if it had been from the cold night temperature or from the paranoia he often felt that he was being watched. Idiot. He cursed himself, trying to shake the feeling off.
(( puppetiism sorry that took so long- Starters aren't my strong suit, so if you'd like something else, I can write something else up, just let me know (◡‿◡✿) ))