Black Skies

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He took the leather mask from the plastic bag. It had not turned out as he had intended; in fact, it was a bit of a botched job. But it would serve its purpose.

His greatest fear had been of running into a cop on the way, but in the event no one had paid him any attention. In addition to the mask, the plastic bag contained two bottles from the state off-licence and a suitably heavy hammer and metal spike bought from a DIY shop.

The materials for the mask had been purchased the day before from a wholesaler who imported leather and hides. Since he had known exactly what he needed he had no problem in acquiring the necessary leather, thread and strong wedge needle. He had made an effort to shave beforehand and put on the least shabby clothes he owned.

Realistically, there was little danger that he would attract any unwanted attention as it was early in the morning and there was barely a soul about. Head down, making sure not to catch the eye of any passer-by, he strode up to the wooden house on Grettisgata where he hurriedly descended the steps to the basement, opened the door and slipped inside, closing it carefully behind him.

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