Shadows (Bayou Magic 1) - Page 47

Perhaps he should just take her toes. They are pretty little digits, but she has displeased him, and that means she needs to be punished.

Losing those pretty little toes will be a great punishment indeed.

Satisfied with his plan, he turns to the girls. The new ones are too fresh. Their fear too raw. They certainly won’t do for today’s fun. He needs one of the seasoned girls.

His eyes move to the one on the end, the one he’s kept the longest of any of the girls he’s taken. He’s not sure why he decided to draw out the inevitable for her. She still has a lot of spirit, which he admits, he admires.

He’s enjoyed having her here, but it’s time for her to have some fun.

She’s earned it, after all.

“Oh, Brielle, today has been such a treat.” He whistles to himself for a moment as he gets his workstation ready for her. He’s decided to treat himself even more today and play with the disemboweling again. He so enjoyed it the last time, although he got too excited and his toy died before he was able to fully detach her anus from her body.

It really was disappointing. But this time, he’ll be more careful. He’s been practicing in his head, running it over and over, and he’s certain he won’t make the same mistakes again.

The table is freshly cleaned, and his tools are ready when he turns to the girl with a smile.

“Today is very special indeed, Brielle. We are going to have so much fun. Now, I’ll wait to put my gear on until after I get you situated. I know that’s not how I usually go about things, but I honestly enjoy the way your little body feels against mine without the rubber apron. And soon, not today, but very soon, we’re going to be together in the most special way, so I’ll let myself feel you today.”

She doesn’t flinch. She’s not breathing hard. She looks calm and collected and resigned to what’s about to happen.

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

It’s as if she loves him as much as he loves her.

Finally!

“Okay, Brielle.” He leans over and unties her hands, then helps her to a standing position and starts to turn toward the bench. Suddenly, the unthinkable happens.

His knife, his favorite knife, is suddenly plunged into his side, right into his stomach. He stares at her, pain rushing through him.

“I told you I was going to kill you, you sick fuck.”

He slaps her hard, sending her to the ground, and pulls the knife out of his side. Blood spurts over his hand covering the wound.

“Brielle,” he keens. “How could you?”

He starts to cry, shaking his head.

So much blood.

And he’s so sad. She hurt him! She tried to kill him.

No. Not his Brielle.

She wouldn’t do that.

This one is no good.

He has to stop the bleeding.

“Ruth,” he mutters as he hurries out the back door and down the stairs that lead to solid ground. “Ruth can stop it.”

He hasn’t seen her in a while, but she wouldn’t turn him away, not when he’s like this. She’ll help him stitch up the wound, and then he’ll go back and kill that little bitch.

How could she?

How dare she?

He trips and falls to the ground, his shoe falling off in the process. He stares down at it.

Should he try to put it back on? There are so many things in the swamp that could hurt his feet.

His mama always told him that.

But there’s no time. Too much blood.

He wrestles his way back to his feet and shuffles along. The house is only a mile from his. He could get there blindfolded.

Yes, this is the right thing.

Ruth will help.

But he’s sweating in the heat, and he’s lost so much blood. Too much. It’s running down his side, his leg. Everything is going dark around the edges of his vision.

Why is he so cold?

He needs Ruth to put a blanket on him, that’s all. She has lots of blankets.

But maybe he’ll stop in this old shed and take a break. Just to catch his breath, then he can make it the rest of the way to Ruth’s house.

He hobbles inside and slides to the ground.

Critters have made this their home over the years. The roof is gone. He can’t escape the hot sun.

And as he closes his eyes, he knows he won’t make it to Ruth’s.

Suddenly, he’s hovering over his body. There’s so much blood. There’s no way he can survive.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t finish the job he’s set out to do. It’s still the most important thing, after all.

And now that he’s free of that worthless, aging body, he can work even more diligently.

He soars over his old house, past the driveway, and onto the road leading to the highway.

Then he floats down to the road.

Tags: Kristen Proby Bayou Magic Fantasy
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