PREY.
He sits at the corner of the bar,
fades into the shadows.
Unnoticed, non discript
among the regulars.
He eyes the dark haired woman.
*Well nourished female, 130 pounds,
5 foot 6 (or thereabouts)
Red rose tattoo across left upper arm,
hands tied behind her back, feet bound.*
She sips her drink, laughs at a joke.
He watches, waits.
*Stab wounds to her chest.
Cause of death strangulation,
evidence of ****** assault.
Evidence of mutilation.*
She leaves, waves from the door.
Excitement swells his veins,
tightens his chest.
He starts to follow.
Someone shouts: “g’night Cinnemon!”
He retreats back into the shadow.
Prey can’t have a name.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
PREY.
He sits at the corner of the bar,
fades into the shadows.
Unnoticed, non discript
among the regulars.
He eyes the dark haired woman.
*Well nourished female, 130 pounds,
5 foot 6 (or thereabouts)
Red rose tattoo across left upper arm,
hands tied behind her back, feet bound.*
She sips her drink, laughs at a joke.
He watches, waits.
*Stab wounds to her chest.
Cause of death strangulation,
evidence of ****** assault.
Evidence of mutilation.*
She leaves, waves from the door.
Excitement swells his veins,
tightens his chest.
He starts to follow.
Someone shouts: “g’night Cinnemon!”
He retreats back into the shadow.
Prey can’t have a name.
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