Diego Alergo – The Man Of The Night

Diego Alergo – the man of the night, as he was known – for he was never in the custody of a humanly designed habitation at this time, breezed confidently into the alien darkness of the night with a yellow slicker on, understandably so, for it was yet again that time of the year and just as he loved it – for it was well suitable for his sinister activities, it was a dark and stormy night.

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Unlike every other year, the weather in Bath, at this time, came in the form of a paralyzing distorted Halloween costume that was impossible to figure out even by the city’s well renowned meteorologists. And everyone in the city was generally disturbed as to the fickle nature of the elements except one man – the man who was known across the city not by his facial structure and representation but by the actions of his malevolent hands.

But however small the knowledge of everyone was about this man, however his true image might have been misconstrued at that time, two things were held in total agreement by all – he was a killer and it was almost inconceivable to pin him down.

The man of the night, contrary to popular beliefs, was of a very petite build, quite stout around his belly with energetic movements well accentuated by his small muscular athletic feet he had probably inherited from his ancestors as his both parents, however dead, if his memory was anything to go by, both had lazy slender legs. He had a skin problem which made him paler than everyone else and he hated himself for his deformity. In contrast to his albinism that set him apart from all and sundry, he had quite a handsome face, as was surprising for someone of his ilk.

When he moved, it was almost effortless, the swagger in which he carried himself. It was of little wonder, how in one of the safest of Cities in England, he was able to establish himself as one of the deadliest of killers –like witches – only heard in folklore, never seen in reality but in any case whose actions could probably be felt in reality and by all means would be denied by intellectuals.

But whether or not they believed he was real, whether or not they perceived him to be a human, he was not to be bothered by their thoughts. For in all his days on the streets, in the night, never for once, as much as he remembered, had he had sympathy for human feelings. By his assessment, humans were pompous, conceited, no different from animals, creatures. Who for whatever reasons as it may be, saw themselves higher than everything else and who constantly needed to be checked and occasionally reminded that the universe didn’t revolve or in any case attempt to revolve around them.

He smelt his distinct body odor amidst the violent torture of pain the heavy raindrops inflicted on him and he knew it. He knew come midnight, if all things were equal, and they always were, he would have cemented himself in the history of Britain forever and there was no turning back.

The rain came in form of prevailing spurts of liquid, dropping like they had lost their appropriate places in their comfortable abode and indeed they had. Violent storms shook the foundations of the earth and threatened to jeopardize the natural order of the earth at will. It was unthinkable for any man to be found in any case out in the empty commanding darkness in these uncharacteristic conditions. Well, except Diego Alergo, the one man who did the unthinkable. He would breeze into the stormy wet night and he would not stop till he got to his victim tonight. Do not underestimate the man with a cause, such a man would deny the evidence of his senses amidst stunningly glaring dangers and that man was Diego.

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He was born sometime in the 1940s, in a time when the World War was at its prime. Diego had lost his father, the only one who he cherished more than everyone else, in one of the deadliest of wars. Many had feared that his peril, howbeit not verified as of yet, had begun then. Since then, Diego had gone on to kill, by the count of the police, fifty young ladies and had escaped almost smoothly every time. His trademark was simple. Rape, kill, dismember the mammary glands and sign on one of them, D.A.

Law enforcement agents had swept through Bath for traces of Diego and their failure to track him down had left everyone frustrated. Diego thought, as he had many times thought before, that he was invisible to mortals and why not. Only an invisible man could walk on the earth like he did with undetected footprints.

Two hours and a half in the rain, he put his hand in his pants and felt for his timepiece. 12.00 It had read and he smiled. The hour had come when the son of man shall attain immortality in Britain. Looking left, right and left again, he entered into the house of his victim undetected and he hadn’t realize what he had done differently this time.

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Heading up the stairway, he smiled like he always did whenever he embarked on duties like this. Two minutes and a half, he was at his victim’s location. Saying a word of prayer, he pushed the overly yielding door. He was early and that was how he operated. A violent explosion of epic proportions was all that was heard. Diego Alergo was set up with a rendezvous with a supposedly harlot who was never going to show up, for a bomb had been planted in this room to put an end to his menace.


The police took the remains of his body and guarded it towards the car. As slowly as they moved, worn out by the rain and the tireless pursuits they realized the rain had stopped. Across, the skyline was brightening. In the distant city the people were cheering. Ironical as it may have turned out, the man who spent his lifetime killing women had been killed by a woman. A great thunder struck. Hell had received their demon. It was going to be a beautiful New Year.

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(All images excerpted from the Internet)

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