I had seen him one night on my way home from work. He had just come around the corner and headed towards me and for whatever reason he was carrying a chainsaw. There wasn't much distance between us and I didn't want to make it obvious that I was avoiding him, but I think anyone that was walking down the street and saw a man carrying a chainsaw would be a little freaked out. I know I was. I didn't get a good look at his face. It appeared that he was wearing some kind of mask, but I couldn't be sure. I decided not to chance it and I cut over to the other side of the street and he did the same. I tried to play it cool but inside I was freaking out. I tried not to look at him but I could sense that he wanted me to. From the corner of my eye I could see that he was less than ten feet away and I wasn't going to take any chances so I bolted. He didn't try to chase me as I guess running with a chainsaw in your hand is not the easiest thing to do. I could hear him laugh, but it was a strange muffled kind of laugh, likely because he was wearing a mask of some kind.
I made my way home without breaking stride and made sure that he was not following me. Arriving home I sat up in my apartment and looked down on the street from my fifth story room. Several minutes later the masked man came around the corner, but no longer was he carrying his chain saw. I stepped back from the window in terror. The thought of him knowing where I lived horrified me. As he walked down the street he stepped under a lamppost light and I got a decent look at him and what he was wearing. He was dressed in leather from head to toe. The strange thing about his leather outfit was not only did he have zippers on his jacket but on his pants as well; dozens of zipper pockets covered his leather outfit. His mask was made from leather as well and there were little unzipped pockets so his eyes could see out and there was a zipper that was opened so his nose could breathe. Curiously there was not a zipper for his lips so one could not see his mouth or hear him speak. That was why when he laughed at me it sounded so muffled and weird.
I then watched him walk down the street and turn into an alley.
Five minutes later there was a knock at the door. I looked through the peephole and it was him and once again he had the chainsaw. I grabbed my gun from my desk and opened the door. He looked at me and knew that I was the one that had run away from him on the street. I didn't say anything and just stared at his psychotic eyes. He tried to talk, but all that came out was a mumble that grew louder and louder. He became increasingly agitated that I could not understand him.
I said, "I can't understand you sir."
He became louder and was pointing to the chainsaw, but I didn't know why. I offered him a pencil and paper to communicate but he waved it away. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Sorry, I can't help you."
He then slowly unzipped his leather mask. I looked in horror as he had a zipper for lips. He tried to pull the zipper back but it was jammed. In frustration he let out a muffled scream.