[ WP ] Two serial killers stumble upon each other while hiking . Both find the other to be the perfect next victim .

When Artigan saw the a wisp of smoke rise from the forest cover, the chill that went through his spine had nothing to do with the hint of coming snow in the air. He picked up the pace and walked toward the source of the smoke. 
 
 Was it another hiker? Or maybe two? The evening air suddenly felt more alive, almost electric. 
 
 The anticipation made his mouth water and the shivering feeling in his stomach made it difficult for him to breathe. He was feeling giddy with the prospect of a kill on the hill. The garotte in his pocket was like a living thing and he patted it with a loving touch. 
 
 `` Soon, my lovely. Soon.'' 
 
 When he reached the fire, he was slightly disappointed to see it was just one man instead of two. For a moment he wondered who the hell treks alone. But then he realized that he was trekking alone too. 
 
 `` Hey, hello there,'' Artigan said to the man who sat on a log with his back toward him. The man did n't move. He just kept his hands extended towards the fire. 
 
 `` Hello, Artigan. Please join me.'' 
 
 Artigan paused. 
 
 The man knew his name. Which meant the man knew about him and what he did. 
 
 Artigan thought about his choices, he could turn and go back where he had come from or he could join the man and find out how he knew his name before slicing his head off and eating his brain. 
 
 His curiosity got the best of him and he walked up to the small fire. The man looked up to him and Artigan saw that his face was criss crossed with scars. 
 
 Jagged wounds that had long healed but left their marks. When the man smiled, his pointed canines shone like diamonds in the semi darkness. 
 
 Artigan felt a strange mixture of revulsion, lust and happiness in his chest. 
 This was no one else but The Cross. The famous serial killer who crossed the faces of his victims after killing them. 
 
 Artigan was not only a fan of the man but he positively idolized him. And he knew Artigan's name! And now Artigan had the opportunity to take his idol's head! 
 
 Could this evening get any better? 
 
 He extended his hand towards the man who had earned a reputation based on unrivaled violence in the serial killer community. He was almost the level of a senior. A legend! 
 
 `` Sir, big big fan of your work. You've been a true inspiration for my work.'' 
 
 The man did n't take his hand. 
 
 `` But, you, Artigan, you've been a disgrace to our community. It's people like you who give our work a bad name.'' 
 
 Shit, thought Artigan as the man clasped his hand in his iron grip and a flash of steel from his other hand swung towards Artigan's face. 
 
 He flinched and that saved his life. The trademark serrated knife in Cross' hand nearly scrapped through his eyeball. 
 
 He had the garotte out in a flash, and he swung the weighed end around the other man's neck. The choking sound he heard meant he had looped perfectly and now it was all about raw strength. He pulled the wire and Cross freed his hand to try and get his fingers under the garotte. But his other hand still had the knife and now he was also closer to Artigan. 
 
 The knife flashed again and again in the falling darkness, and Artigan felt the sharp bite of the blade on his neck, face and chest. 
 
 Blood filled his mouth but he managed to grab the other end of the garotte. He pulled and sliced with all his might and felt the wire bite into the flesh and tissue of the neck. The sharp tang of blood filled his nostrils, the same familiar feeling he had enjoyed so many times before. 
 
 But his strength was fading. cross still jabbed at him with the wicked knife but his jabs had lost the will behind them. 
 
 The two killers fell on the ground as fatigue and blood loss caught up with them. 
 The first snow of winter started to fall and Artigan smiled at the numbness that was spreading through his body. He had had his kill. That was all that mattered.
