The victim recognized him from the newspaper photos she’d seen. The wrenched face, the heavy brows—but he looked much more terrifying in person. A foul stench emanated from his body and filled her nostrils. The bad odor from his body could have been permanent from years of running and poverty. His skin was chapped and baked a deep, nut brown. He had sores that had healed and reopened. All this ran through her mind while he began the violation. She knew his motive operandi. She would not live again.

The victim had been attacked before, but she had a Knight in shining armor. Nick PT Barnum was there to save the day. In the dirty disgusting alley, she knew he wasn’t coming. She was going to die afer the rape. Her mind was telling the truth. Being pinned to the ground by a madman in an isolated spot with his pants at his knees, feeling vulnerable, she was going to die.

Where was Nick PT Barnum? She thought.

Over on the west side, Nick PT Barnum was dealing with the fallout from a triple shooting. The scene on North Avenue was a wild one. A young girl was shot dead and two family members wounded while trying to protect her. The wanted man was the dead girl’s estranged lover, who compensated for the end of their brief romance by shooting everyone he could find in his girlfriend’s apartment.

Nick PT Barnum paused for a moment. It was as if a ghost walked by him. He was missing something and it ate away at his soul. He scanned the bustling activity on the streets and did not see the face he was looking for.

Her face.

It was too late.