He.
Was.
She looked so lovely, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight, and the tourniquet on her arm with a needle sticking out of her flesh.
They’d assume she shot up out here, and met her maker.
And that was exactly what he wanted them to think. It was setting the scene for his reign of terror.
For one day, they’d figure out what he was doing, and the chase would begin. Oh, and that was another exciting moment that he was anticipating.
Yes, please call out the big dog on him. Because that was what he craved.
Almost as much as he craved her.
As for his lovely flower…
She’d been buried, and he’d gone to the funeral. In the book at the entrance of the chapel where the ceremony was being held, he signed his name.
Well, not his name.
A NAME.
He wasn’t stupid.
That funeral home was the most popular one in the city, and they got all the good business.
HIS.
BUSINESS.
Oh, and for a myriad of reasons too. If anything, he was good at leaving clues, just waiting to see who figured them out, and who didn’t.
At the funeral, he’d admired her.
Then, he’d stayed for the entire service. It was full of crying people, and family that couldn’t believe that they didn’t see the signs of her addiction.
Well, no duh.
That’s because there weren’t any.
She’d never done drugs in her entire life. That was what made the show even better.
He’d fooled everyone.
He’d fooled the cops.
He’d fooled her family.
With intelligence came power. For now, he was officially just like one of the greats that came before him, Gacy, Ripper, and Dahmer.
Just like the others, he’d managed to outsmart everyone and gave the victim of his lust and depravity a whole other story.
That made him a mastermind of their fate.
Little did they know that he just wanted their dead bodies for his own.
The Grave Robberwas going to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
