A Story A Day. Story 175 of 365: Stains.

It was the perfect crime, the victim was an old woman, childless and friendless. No one would miss her, no one would realize she was dead until her body started stinking. He didn't want jewels pr money, he only needed the thrill only killing would give him. He hadn't killed in a long time, he had told himself he needed to stop, and he did for some years. However, after moving to the new flat and meeting his victim, he felt the need again. He tried to convince himself he shouldn't do it, that he would only get into trouble, but there was a part of his brain that was already planning everything. After some months of preparation he found himself in her house, with the old lady laying on the sofa, as if she were soundly asleep. He knew better, he had stuck a fine needle on a specific point of her body, the needle never felt any mark, so he knew they would rule her death to natural causes. He left, satisfied, oblivious of the stains of blood on her blouse.