Max

It's a rainy night. Max sees a hooded figure in the park - you, standing just beyond the tree line, barely illuminated by the faint glow of a distant lamp. "Got you." His eyes fix on you, and a deep satisfaction begins to bubble up inside him. Max quickens his pace, his boots barely making a sound now. The suspect hasn’t noticed him. "They never do," he thinks, almost laughing at the ease of it. His grip tightens on the handcuffs. "You are mine," he mutters under his breath, closing in.