Page 17 of The Black Lotus
His nipple goes flying, and I make a mental note to find that to dispose of later. “Money!” he squeals like the pig he is.
“See; was that so hard?” She slices the other nipple off with a delicate flick of her wrist.
“What the fuck, cunt! I answered your question!”
“You did, but I couldn’t leave you uneven. Next question, and if you answer with no backtalk I might not use this on…” Shepoints the blade down his body, and his eyes get so big they would pop out of his head if I didn’t remove one earlier.
“How does this kill list work?”
He coughs, but answers without a retort. “Cynthia sent untraceable letters to serial killers around the states. There was a number to place your bid, and coded details for an offshore account to get your spot after you submitted money.” His voice becomes raspy, the more he speaks. “I was the lowest bidder, so I got first dibs. Whoever kills you gets all the money in the account, minus Cynthia's normal cut, and the money stays in the pot until someone succeeds. It's a lot. It would even tempt lover boy over there."
Serena stares impassively at Nate. “See? Was that so hard? I guess you get to keep your balls. For now.” Nate tries to cover himself, but his hands don’t reach. “Next question. Do you know why she’s doing this?” My head tilts at the question we know the answer to.She’s a distraction according to my mother, is she trying to see if he’s telling the truth or searching for something else?
He barks a laugh, blood dripping down his chin “You think a woman like Cynthia would tell us why she wants you dead?” He scoffs, relaxing against the table. “We’re just servants doing her bidding. She’s powerful. She has eyes everywhere.” His eye meet Serena’s, his cockiness creeping back in. “You’ll never escape.”
Her fingers shift around the handle. “Last question. Who won the next bid?”
Nate’s eye darkens, a bloody smile twisting his bloated features. “The Twisted Trickster.” A maniacal laugh echoes around the room as my spine stiffens. Serena slices the knife across his throat, silencing Nate and watching the life drain from his eye.
SEVEN
SERENA
It’s the witching hour as we drive to the dump location Aster has yet to disclose to me. He says the destination is a part of the journey and, just like when he disposed of his little lambs, every location is different but secluded.
I wanted nothing more than to lay down curled up next to Aster and fall asleep after we killed him, but Nate’s body needed to be dealt with. My needs were not as important as completing what we started. If we waited too long the body would start to decompose, making it harder to relocate. It had to be at night when no one could see what we were doing.
Unlike his little lambs, he did not paint Nate's body, so the world will know the true face of the Concord Killer. When I asked Aster why he didn’t want to paint Nate, he said since the Morbid Monet has a partner in crime now, he wanted to recreate his signature with me. When I asked why he painted them to begin with he said that he wanted his lambs to remain his, no one was to ever know who they were after they laid on his table. The thought that I was almost his lamb has me grateful I’m now his vixen, the match to his crazy. My crazy is different from his since I was seeing a person who wasn’t actually there, but we both crave power. Taking a life, watching the blood splatter isthe kind of chaos our love was made in. He may have been bred to be a serial killer, but he was always meant to be mine, and together we will paint the world crimson.
During my interrogation to find out more about Cynthia’s plans, I expected Aster to join in, to give me hands-on learning experience, and for us to kill Nate together. But, just like Bradley, he stood off to the side watching. I understand that he loves watching the beast within me break free and run amuck, but I want his darkness to join mine. I want to create a bloody masterpiece ofourvictims. Together.
The car slows to a stop in front of an old, abandoned warehouse. There is a chain link fence blocking our entry, so Aster reaches behind him and grabs the bolt cutters he had laying on the floor. “Stay here,” he demands, his voice almost unrecognizable. Without waiting for a response, he leaves the car, his door left open as he cuts the lock and pushes the gate all the way open. You would think with how old this place looks the hinges would squeak, but nothing except the sound of the harsh wind hits my ears, the cold bite and my killing high slowly fading has me shivering, even in a long sleeved shirt.
He gets back in the car and we pull around to the back of the building. “Have you been here before?” I ask, placing my hand against the window.
“I have several places picked for dump sites I have scoped, but not used yet.”
My breath fogs the window. “For your little lambs?” I turn to look at him. “Or for our victims.”
He smirks leaving my question unanswered and hands me a black bonnet. “What’s this for?” I ask, wrapping my hair up and placing the cap over it.
Aster reaches over, tucking a fallen strand of hair into the cover. “This is your first time disposing of a body; we don’t wantany chance of your DNA being left behind. Here.” He hands me a pair of matching black gloves.
“No fingerprints.” I smile, pulling them on.
“Exactly.”
He gets out of the car, and walks to my side holding small boots in front of me. My mouth drops open, my nose scrunching in disbelief. “My feet will be squashed in those.”
“We need to make them fit.” He bends down and takes a cloth out of his pocket. “If we leave any kind of footprint behind, they need to never track it to us.” I hiss as he wraps my feet, kissing the top of them after each one is secure. No wonder he hasn’t been caught or has never been a suspect; he goes to extensive lengths to make sure no trace of him is left behind. Just evidence of someone that doesn’t match his well,anything.
“After we’re done here, I promise to give you a foot massage.”
He slips on the boots, each one entering without resistance. “It better be a toe curling, orgasmic foot rub.” I wink.
He chuckles, getting off his knees and holding his hand out for me. “Look at you being all gentlemanly,” I tease, wrapping my fingers around his.
“Even monsters are taught manners. How else do you think the lambs fall at my feet?” My eyes travel down his body.Your dick.
