I was perched on a stool when the phone vibrated. My guest's doodled skin glistening against the florescent lights as he mumbled in his hallucinogenic slumber. Wiping the blood off my hands I check the phone to make sure it wasn't Archie. Peter's number gleamed back at me. A mild sense of disappointment followed by a small thrill that he was back in town with a family member in tow.
“Yes?” I say after accepting the call. He mumbles something that makes me smirk.
“Bring him to me... I have another task for you, I will text the details.” I look lovingly towards my playmate.
Peter brought the boy shortly. It was the younger of the two, dark hair sleek with oil from travel and the same nose as the man on my table. His brown eyes were wide with fear as Peter all but threw him down the stairs. His hands were bound behind him as he took in the basement sights. The tiles, lights, trays of my instruments, even myself until they settled on the man's chest in the center of the room. I had covered his face with the cloth, only the chest and my love marks were showing. A dream caused him to twitch in his restraints and moan.
Instead of a look of horror the boy stepped tentatively forward with curiosity. I slipped into a warm smile while Peter left us to take care of the business I had ordered him to do.
I have a very special story to share with the ladies today for tea. May I present a tale of the beauty killer, Gretchen Lowell.
For those following at home, find the rest of the tale I'm reading to the ladies at tea today here.