I'm sitting on a bench in a park. It's morning, the air feels cool and fresh. I see a few joggers here and there, but other than them not that many people around. I'm holding the latest newspaper.
War, death, poverty, same news as usual.
Patiently, I wait for my prey.
From afar, I see a small girl, about 10. Alone and unsupervised. She’s scribbling on something, like a sketchbook.
This is it. My target. I stuff away the papers in my coat, and make my move.
I approach her carefully, minimizing suspicion. I ask her what she's doing here. Cheerfully, she explains her love for sketching things.
Cats, dogs, trees, all that stuff, but especially birds. She says she wants to be an artist someday.
There's my angle. I tell her I saw some exotic birds in a secluded section of the park earlier, and ask her if she wants to see them. Ecstatic, she says yes. Luring her is almost too easy.
We arrive at the spot. Secluded. No witnesses. The time has come.
I tell her I saw a bird in the trees, and as her back turns toward me, I take out my blade and slice her throat from behind, my other hand cupping her mouth from screaming. Quick and painless.
Finished, I dump her body into an undergrowth. It'll be days before anyone finds her.
I take out the newspaper that I held earlier. The headlines have changed; now there is no war, no death, no poverty, all replaced with some other mundane news.
I sigh with relief as I activate my Time Displacer Unit, heading home. Mission accomplished.