"Dexter Harisov smiled coercively as his victim gave in. He laughed quietly, watching the blood drip from their mouth. The blood dropped, spattering onto Dexter's shoes and pant legs. O well, it was just blood. He cleaned up, disposed of the body, and went back towards the street. Dexter had committed many terrible homicides lately. In alleys, behind grocery stores, in quiet little neighborhoods at night, many had felt his knife cut through their bodies. He fancied himself