Lake Lewisia #1021

It had the highest body count of any serial killer ever to stalk dark alleys or sticky dive bars or suburban bedrooms, and it had never felt any compulsion to restrict its hunting grounds like those others. It had a type, a preferred victim--true enough--but anyone could become the type in a lightning-strike moment or in a slow downward spiral over gravel. It called itself Hopelessness, arrogant enough to put its antidote in its name, and even a fine town like Lewisia needed to shore up its defenses against it: friends kept close, hands reaching out, checking in, drawing out the lonely and forgotten into the safety of daylight.

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LL#1021