I'm on to them, or maybe they're on to me. I don't know what's safe anymore. I don't know who to trust. This untraceable killer has the city on a knife's edge. I have to stay sharp. My mind needs to be...okay, one more sip. The bourbon is smooth, warm, familiar. It feels as safe as anything right now. My bloodshot eyes don't recognize themselves in the mirror, but my bloodhound nose is giving my boozehound brain a theory. What has no life, but can take life? Perhaps the danger is closer than I knew. Maybe each murder started decades ago. Lives dripping away, spilling over, eventually evaporating. The bottle beckons wickedly as its next victim reaches for it. As my grip on the killer's neck tightens, my grip on life loosens.