Regi was sitting on the swing at the playground. The park was almost empty. Most children had gone home with their families.

Time to leave. Regi stood up and was about to go when someone pulled on his sleeve.

"Hey old man, wanna play with me for a bit?"

He turned around. It was a small boy, about seven or eight years old. He was dressed in jeans and a half-sleeved t-shirt. He clutched a black football in one hand.

"Don't you have to go home?"

"My mom is gonna come pick me up after work. She will get off after seven today."

Regi looked down at his watch. It was a quarter past five.

"Didn't your mom teach you not to talk to strangers?"

"You're not a stranger. I see you at the park everyday." The boy started fidgeting with the ball, "You're always sitting on that bench and watching the other kids."

For a second, Regi felt exposed. There was something unnerving in his selection of words.

"W... watching? You make it sound..." he stopped, the child might not have realized it, "How do you mean watching?"

"You watch people all the time. Last month you were watching the Jones' kid. You know, Timmy. Too bad he doesn't come to the park anymore."

Regi swallowed hard. When did this kid notice? He had to dig in and find exactly what this child knew.

"Were you friends with Timmy?"

"Me? Nah. I played with him once but I'm not really friends with anyone here."

That was not enough to assure him of safety. He needed a clear indication of what the boy knew.

"Funny. I spoke to Timmy too. He was a quiet kid, said he didn't have many friends either. You two would have got along."

The boy did not take the bait. He did not respond, instead he started juggling the ball, alternating it on each foot. Regi would try a different tack.

"You're pretty good. Do you play football?"

"Nope. I want to but mom won't let me."

"That's a waste. She sounds like a bad mom."

"She's just busy all the time." The boy did not meet his eyes.

It would be too risky to let him go. There were almost no witnesses now.

"Say, maybe I do have a bit of time."

"Great. You go stand over there and I'll kick the ball."

"Not so fast. What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Nez. And you, old man?"

He paused. "Old man's fine with me."

Nez looked up and grinned at him, "You're pretty serious about your age."

"You're quick."

"My mom says that to some of her clients."

"Clients?"

"Yeah. She calls them that. She's a tour guide I think. She travels around a lot. And she's always meeting up with her clients all over the place."

Regi almost chuckled at the innocent answer, 'His mother must be guiding them on some pretty exclusive tours.'

Another pause. The playground was dyed red from the dying rays of the sun. In this setting the boy's hair shone a vivid orange. Regi did not admire the illusion. His mind was excited by the appropriate setting.

They were alone now.

This was as good an opportunity as any. He would get rid of this troublesome kid.

"Look Nez, everyone's gone. It'll get dark soon, maybe we should go someplace else."

"But mom told me to wait here. She won't be able to find me if I go."

He was being stubborn. That was expected of a child so young. Children at his age did try to act obedient and be "good".

He needed a bit of skilful coaxing.

"You said your mom gets off after seven?"

Nez nodded an affirmation.

"You're in luck. We can wait at this place I know, it's close by. We'll come back here at six fifty sharp."

The boy processed the information.

"It's really close?"

"Yep"

"And we can come back before mom gets here?"

"Sure, I'll bring you back."

"I guess it's okay... but we have to be back before mom or she'll get angry."

"I promise."

Regi took the child's hand and led him away from the gathering dusk of the playground.

They were two streets away in a semi-deserted neighborhood.

This area was home to many vacant villas whose rich owners spent most of their days in the heart of the city. The buildings here stood empty for months at a time. Their occupants returned during the holiday seasons to enjoy a quiet respite in this sleepy town surrounded by forests.

On this early autumn day, most of these wood, glass and brick contraptions stood empty and dark. The lifeless street was illuminated by the dim glow of streetlamps.

The two of them stopped in front of a large house with a wooden fence surrounding the area. The owners were away.

"Is this your place old man?"

"Not exactly but no one's home."

"Are we going to get in here?"

"Yep. What'd you think? Nice place, right?"

Regi opened the gate and walked in, pulling Nez behind him.

"We shouldn't do that."

"Don't be a baby. It's just for an hour. We'll be gone before they notice."

"But..." Nez was uncomfortable with the arrangement, "We're trespassing."

"It'll be fine. We just have to be quiet."

They were inside. Regi took the boy to the back of the house. They were standing before a set of sliding glass panels.

The man walked up to one of the panels and clicked on the slider - the lock was already broken.

The panel opened and Regi navigated his way to the living room dragging the helpless child with him.

"Where are you taking me?"

Regi did not answer. The child began to fret. He tried to pull his hand free but the man would not release him.

"We have to go, please, mom's gonna be angry,"

Regi stopped. In a quick move, he pushed Nez to the ground and pinned down his arms with one hand. With his left knee, he held down the boy's feet.

"Look kid, I don't know what you saw but seeing me with Timmy was a mistake."

"I didn't see you with Timmy. I just saw you watch him." The boy sobbed, "Let me go, please..."

Regi did not let him finish. He grabbed the boy's throat. It was easy. He just had to hold on tight to stop the struggles.

The child started to choke. Sweat beads formed on Regi's forehead. The boy tried to kick off his assailant but failed. He could not shout.

Tears oozed out of the corners of his eyes. His face was flushed as he gasped for air. The struggle lasted less than twenty minutes.

After that he just had to remove the evidence.

He made his way to the kitchen and found the bottle of bleach.

He took plastic gloves from the wash closet and returned with the bottle.

Back at the crime scene, he put on the gloves and rubbed the child's neck, arms and feet with the corrosive chemical. He even scrubbed the surrounding area for good measure.

Once he was satisfied with the results it was time to escape. Regi got up and dusted his hands as though that would erase his latest deed. He hid the used gloves in his own jacket.

"Sorry kid, your mom will have to wait a little longer."

He fumbled his way out of the dark house, closing the glass panel on his way out.

He had to leave the neighborhood before anyone saw him. The body might not be found soon but he had to be careful.

*****

Regi entered his house and closed the door.

The house was a small single bedroom affair that stood isolated in the middle of a patch of grassland on the outskirts of town.

It was three days since he...

He stopped mid-thought. There was someone standing in the middle of the entryway.

He switched on the light.

It was a child. He recognized him by the shape of his clothes.

Nez stood with his back to the door. Regi snapped around and tried to open the door. It was locked. The key would not turn.

"Mom was so angry that day," when Nez spoke, his voice sounded hoarse, "I was so late."

Regi did not answer.

"You promised we'd be back before seven."

He turned to face the man. The child was just as he remembered. The clothes were clean. His face was unmarked by bleach scars. Nothing suggested their previous encounter had been out of the ordinary.

"I..." He could not speak.

"After you left, I ran back to the park," the boy was earnest, "Mom was already there. I was so late she wouldn't talk to me."

He watched in horror as the child came closer to him.

"I told her you stopped me from leaving. But she was still angry. So angry she wouldn't speak to me anymore."

Nez was standing within arm's reach. Regi's body froze. His heart was pounding.

"She isn't talking to me at all. What should I do old man?" He was sobbing.

"Could you tell her I wasn't lying?"

Regi did not know what to think. His pulse throbbed in his ears. His hands were sweaty.

"Could you please tell her the truth?"

He felt dizzy. The room was unbearably hot and cold at the same time.

"Hey old man? Could you, please?" A cold hand grabbed his own.

The touch was the final straw. Everything went black and Regi collapsed to the floor.

*****

A rattle of the door knob brought him back to his senses. Regi sat up with a start.

He had to get outside.

"Excuse me, is anyone home?" Someone called from outside.

Regi turned the key; this time it worked. The door opened. He was out of the house.

As he turned back, he saw that the boy was gone.

He felt relief rush into his lungs. The fear lifted.

It was a bad dream. He must have imagined the whole thing. He turned around to face his saviour.

It was a woman. She was dressed in simple black clothes.

"Sorry for calling on you so suddenly,"

Regi could not respond yet.

The woman continued, "I thought Nez was lying about being held up. Guess he meant you."

"What are you talking about lady?" Regi finally regained some semblance of control.

"Well, if you took him, I should at least thank you for babysitting my boy."

She took his hand in both of hers in a thankful gesture.

"What are you blabbering about?"

"I'm talking about my boy, Nez. Remember?"

"I've no clue what's going on here!" He tried to act offended but his shaky voice made it sound like mere denial.

"Of course you do." She did not waver in her accusations,"You played with my son, Nez. Couple of nights ago."

"I don't know a Nez."

"What? Of course you know. You had to keep him company."

"You're crazy, let me go." He tried to pull his hand away.

"Let you go? That's what Nez said. He told me you took him to explore an empty house. But you should have brought him back afterwards. Nez couldn't find the way back on his own for almost three hours afterwards."

"I don't know anything you're saying."

"Are you sure you didn't play with him?"

"Of course not. I don't know your son."

"Oh," She paused as if thinking, "In that case, you must be the creep that murdered Timmy."

Her grip tightened. At this point, Regi was trying his best to run away but her hold was like a steel vice. He could not pull free.

"What are you doing to me? Let me go!"

"I'm sure Nez said the same thing. Maybe even Timmy."

"Who are you?"

"Didn't my son tell you? I'm a guide. And we're about to go on an interesting trip."

As she said this, the woman's figure lit up in a shade of orange light. Regi looked around to find the source. The glow got brighter and hotter at each passing moment.

He looked down at his feet. A gaping crack had appeared in the ground below them. The void was filled with what appeared to be flowing magma.

"Please, I didn't mean it." He pleaded as his fate became clear.

"Of course you didn't. I've noticed my tours tend to fuel retrospection." Her tone was playful, "You'll get plenty of time to enjoy the scenery and think of exactly what you meant. After all, you've got an eternity ahead of you."

They were falling down. Regi screamed for help. The endless chasm of flames soon swallowed both the man and his guide.

*****

"That took forever!" Nez complained when the woman returned.

"Now now, we still have to see off the client." She turned to face a small, shadowy figure standing at a distance.

As they approached it, she asked, "Are you satisfied with the tour we sent him on?"

The figure nodded.

"As promised, I'll take you on your own trip now," the woman took the hand of the shadow child.

Nez stepped closer and hugged the boy "Hey Tim, take better care next time, okay? And wherever you go, be happy."

The other child nodded and his face twisted into a sad smile.

"Maybe we'll meet again,"

The duo slowly faded into the darkness of night.

Nez stood waiting alone in the realm of shadows. He had not learned to leave yet.