Page 42 of The Black Lotus
When I get my hands on the stupid bitch who dared take my girl, I’m going to do exactly as I promised. My blood hums, the thrill of the hunt setting my body on fire.That is, if Serena doesn’t kill her first.
I turn on the radio, needing to block out all the scenarios running rampant in my head, needing to distract myself from the what ifs. The leather steering wheel groans beneath my palms. Serena is smart, she is strong, and after everything I have taught her, she can handle herself. Lena gave her that box cutter; I only hope Sharon wasn’t smart enough to search her and take it. The thought of her still having it is the only thing keeping me from losing control.
‘Breaking news! We come to you with an announcement of another terrible kill. The Fatal Floral Killers have struck again.’
My heart races.Serena is going to love hearing the name they came up with for us.It’s perfect, showcasing both our signatures seamlessly. The corner of my mouth lifts, some of the tension fading from my shoulders.We’ve been named, vixen; that means we need to kill again and again and again.
‘Authorities have yet to disclose if the Morbid Monet is involved in any way or if the kills have been an overzealous copycat, but with the details we do know, we can guess the Morbid Monet has found a partner. It appears the Patchwork Killers have been reincarnated, though we can’t officially say that.’
My jaw ticks despite the pride filling my chest. Guess the media is smarter than the authorities, unless they’re hiding information to make sure I don’t catch on. But I’m smarter than all of them; they’ll never catch us. The news, however, will most likely get in trouble for saying that and spreading unofficial information.
‘The newest victim of the Fatal Florals Killers is none other than the Twisted Trickster. She was found the same way she leaves her victims.’
I snicker, imagining the horror on the officers’ faces when they discovered our masterpiece. Neither myself nor Serena are practiced with balloon animals, so we struggled to get the shape correct. But we are artists, through and through, figuring out what to shape her parts into once we got the hang of it was easy.
‘Her intestines were shaped into a fox, the signature blue rose and black lotus resting in both hands, and she was placed under what we can only assume was her latest victim. The cuts and how the deceased was blown up are her signature, but the way she was showcased hadn’t been seen before.’
What better way to leave our mark than to leave a fox. Granted, they’ll never know the true meaning behind it; that’s for me and Serena alone to know.
‘The victim's name has yet to be disclosed, as we’re waiting for permission from the family, but the Twisted Trickster has been identified as twenty-seven-year-old Kelsey Barrett; daughter of the infamous Killer Clown duo. Sad to see their daughter turned out just like them, even dressing as a clown while she went on her kills.’
It isn’t sad that she followed their legacy.My hands squeeze the steering wheel, my frustration pouring off me. Kelsey was better than her parents who would book children's parties and later murder and dismember the family members of the children, leaving them orphaned.Kelsey’s kills were cleaner and her trail is better hidden. It’s not her fault she wanted what our parents had with me, and I wanted the same with someone else, deep in my blackened heart. I didn’t think I’d ever have what my parents did until I met Serena.But what we have is better than them all. What we have, no one will take away, and I will protect her with my life.
I switch the channel, having heard enough and knowing all the details no one else is privy to. The songIf It Doesn’t Hurtby Nothing More blasts through the speakers. The lyrics thrum through me, the bass matching the speed of my thundering heart.
The sound of my phone ringing interrupts the song. Thomas’s panicked, urgent voice comes through as soon as I answer. “Aster! I tried calling Sharon, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. Please tell me you’re close.”
“Still 30 minutes out.”I need to go faster. I need to get to Serena. Sharon not answering isn’t a good sign, but it could mean anything.
“Shit. Okay, I tracked her last location, and it was the farm. I’m still almost two hours out-” His voice cuts off, but before I ask if he’s still there, his voice comes through again. “-Thank you, Aster.”
“Anything for Serena.”
The call clicks off and I press harder on the gas, hoping I reach her in time.
TWENTY-ONE
SERENA
Hefting Sharon's unconscious body onto a table she didn’t use herself was a lot harder than Aster makes it look.Thank God I have him as my partner in crime; he does all the work I’d rather not do,andI get to have all the fun with him afterward.
After hearing what she did to my mother, I decided I wanted her to fear me. I didn’t want to kill her, not yet. I wanted to torture her and have her begging for her pathetic life.
I found some duct tape in one of the drawers and wrapped that all over her so she can’t move. Stepping back to admire my work, I can’t help but giggle excitedly; she looks like a mummy.Aster would be proud.
Rummaging through her belongings, I slip on some gloves, something she was too stupid to think of.Who's the stupid one now, Sharon?Finding her phone, I take the SIM card out and snap it in half, placing it back on the tray to be disposed of later.
Hearing movement behind me, I turn around, a big smile plastered across my face as I watch Sharon struggle.
“Let me out of here! Right now!” she screeches. “You think you’re so clever, stabbing me and knocking me out. You think you can keep me confined in this?" She looks down with a huff,her eyes widening in disbelief. “Am I wrapped in duct tape?” She fights against her bindings unsuccessfully and eventually stops moving. I chuckle at her futile attempt.
I slam my hand against the table, startling her. “Youare the stupidone. Why would you tie me to a chair when you had this perfectly good table?” I tap the wood with my knuckles. “Why wouldn’t you check my body for anything I could use to escape? Why would you go up against a serial killer?”
Her eyes widen, but she quickly schools her features, scoffing as her eyes trail over me with venom. “Killing two people doesn’t make you a serial killer.”
“You’re right, but killing five does.”
“F-five,” she stutters, her face paling.
