He has perfected the almost feline leap across the rows of wooden desks. He can start at one end of the room, now, and make it to other side without any part of his body making contact. He practised and practised in the depth of the night, every night for months, after the gates had been locked. The gates he had been able to vault right from the start, easy, without breaking a sweat.

The few who know of him, know who he believes himself to be, stalk around on red alert. The rest of us remain blissfully oblivious.

But not for long.

He has perfected the almost feline leap across the rows of wooden desks. He has imagined every night for months the look on her face. How he’ll be so close she’ll be breathing in his excited gasps, and vice versa. Only her breathing probably won’t betray such excitement. More confused, more incredulous, more fearful. And perhaps a little impressed.

He has perfected what he will say before he does it - nothing - and how he will say it. With an enigmatic stillness.

He has perfected his plan. How to get her alone, sitting by herself at the far end of the room. How the heavy black curtains will conveniently be drawn by the person in there before them, how she’ll be in semi-darkness and so will he.

He has imagined the look on her face every night for months. What she’ll say when his nails graze her exposed collarbone (a detail carefully engineered). What she’ll do when they break her skin. How she’ll shy away and find herself surrounded, find him everywhere. Omnipresent, with his long legs locking her arms to side of her body, with his whisper in her ear (both ears) and his nails embedded in soft skin.

He has perfected the almost feline leap across the rows of wooden desks, but this bite will be the first since the last time he’d had a suitable girl and a chance like this one. Only that had been a different girl, a different room, a different set of wooden desks.

He has perfected his almost feline leap across the rows of wooden desks, only this time he’s determined to finish it before they’re walked in on the two of them. Deathly pale, she’ll be. Lifeless in his arms, with his teeth wrapped around her delicate neck.