Exton

Friday, September 10, 5:12 AM. Dan Robertson and his girlfriend Stephanie Oliver had just gotten dressed and had a quickie breakfast at an off-campus fast-food joint. The first gray streaks of dawn had begun to filter in as Dan walked her back to the dorm. Dan was a senior, Stephanie a junior and as they walked, they spoke of post-university plans. They had been engaged for just forty-six days.

The attack was as silent as it was savage. Stephanie was torn shrieking from Dan's grasp. He couldn't see clearly what it was that he was fighting, but he fought anyway. He was on the boxing team, ranked second in the state, and his punch was reckoned just this side of lethal.

Today it did him no good at all. He connected with something that had all the give of a tombstone, bursting two knuckles on the spot. The return blow broke ribs and his mouth filled with blood. Stephanie's shrieks were no more than whimpers now and a burning, blinding agony ripped suddenly across his throat. He went to his knees, striking blindly with faltering strength at anything and nothing until blood loss robbed him even of that.

And then he just died.

Stephanie took a little longer.