I underestimated my Target once again, and Lucia will be happy to hear that I paid the price.
We met at his little park, as planned, and he was unaware of my true identity and true intent. Kniferapist, indeed. I am not petty enough to be offended by a nickname.
Everything was proceeding well enough. Exactly forty-five minutes in, I feigned an 'episode' and dashed for the woods. I easily outpaced him, entering the cover of the trees well ahead of him. From there, it should've been simple enough.
As before, I couldn't See him. He managed to wander past me, knife in hand, and straight into Father. Father wasn't to be there in the first place. As of yet I have no answer as to why He meddled, but it cost me dearly.
My Target noticed me. I had no time to erect my Filter. On some primal level, he knew. He finally made the connection. He finally realized I was the one who had been chasing him, who had tried killing him on several different occasions already. I could see in his eyes he realized just how stupid he had been.
And then he ran.
I chased him through those damned trees, on and off the trails, across the river where Father couldn't follow, until the sun was long gone. I would estimate the time to be between 10:30 and 11:30. I lost him just after I lost the light. I was running blind, praying for Father's guidance to bring my to my Target.
He found me first. I was suddenly on the ground, something sharp in my lower back. Just as suddenly, he was off, circling me warily, daring me to get up. He hadn't even drawn his machete. He was mocking me. His challenge would not go unanswered.
I rose, ignoring the pain in my side, and took my own knife out. Eight inches to his three. I had the advantage of range, even if he hadn't been using a backhanded grip on his little toothpick. I feinted to his left and slashed, but he danced out of the way. Father's primary gift to me was useless against him. If I couldn't See him, I couldn't subdue him with the ease I was accustomed to. The encounter was swiftly moving out of my favor.
So I used Father's other gifts: strength and speed. I circled him quickly, grabbed him, and hurled him into a tree. On impact, he dropped his knife, and lay stunned at the base of the tree for a few seconds. I lunged once more, but he recovered quickly enough to dodge again. This time, he finally drew the big blade, his machete. Black in color, perfectly blending into the shadows.
He ran again.
I chased after, fully intending to tackle him and end it. He stopped dead in his tracks when I was a few inches from him and stuck his weapon straight out underneath his arm, where I couldn't see it. The impact carried him to the ground, but also rammed the entire length of the machete through me.
Breakfast tomorrow will be unpleasant.
He rose and began his escape, but Father finally made His appearance, stepping out of the shadows with all of His arms spread behind him like wings, a testament to His glorious power. My Target crumpled to the ground, clutching his temples. One blink, and Father was by my side, His arm tearing the machete from my stomach and casting it off into the darkness.
I rose and claimed my prize. Checkmate, Moral.
4 days remain until termination.