Risciter seethed. “I told you to keep your mouth shut.”
“Why should I?”
Risciter whispered in her ear. “Because if you don’t, before I kill you, I’m going to fuck you with this knife.” He was improvising. Truthfully, Lilla didn’t excite him in the least. She was too old and too fat for much fun. She had a world-weary jadedness about her that turned him off. But if he could frighten her enough, maybe she’d cooperate.
Lilla stiffened next to him. Then she turned her head and spat in his face.
Risciter wiped her saliva off his cheek, anger boiling inside him. “You bitch.”
“You waste of air,” she retorted. “If you’re going to kill me, I’m going to warn my girls first.” She sucked in a breath and started to yell, “He—”
But that was as far as she got, because Risciter punched his knife into her neck, cutting much deeper than he had with any of the other girls. This wasn’t slitting or slashing, this was sawing. He ripped his knife through her flesh, her blood gushing over the front of her nightgown, her eyes going blank. She toppled to the ground.
Risciter kicked her body. Fuck. Now he was going to have to drag her after all.
Swearing under his breath, he stalked back into her cottage and stripped a sheet off the bed. He returned to her body and rolled it onto the sheet. Grabbing the four ends of the sheet, he began to tug. By the time he’d passed three of the cottages, he was out of breath. Three more and he was sweating. This stupid cunt had made everything worse. He’d kill her again if she weren’t already dead.
When he finally got her back to the main house and pulled her body into the center of the main room, he couldn’t help but take out his frustrations further. As he yanked her clothes off her body, he stabbed her again. And again. And again. It was a good thing she was so damned big, or she’d be nothing but stab wounds. Idiot whore.
After he’d managed to calm down, he set about arranging her body the way he wanted it. When Keirth saw this, it should shake him. Around Lilla, all the other girls lay dead on their couches. In the center, he propped Lilla up against a bench. She was naked, decorated only with her own blood. He spread her legs, displaying her vagina to whoever might see her. He hadn’t fucked her, but he wanted Keirth to think he had.
Risciter hadn’t fucked anyone tonight. When he’d been a younger man, perhaps he could have managed a few warm-ups before the main event. But he was older now. He didn’t quite have the stamina. He wanted to save it all for Ariana. Speaking of Ariana, it was almost time to go and get her, to put his last piece of this perfect achievement in place.
First, he stepped back to survey the room, to make sure everything was exactly the way he wanted it. He smiled. Yes. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Humming softly to himself, Risciter made his way to the kitchen and into the pantry. After feeling around in the darkness for a little bit, he found the sliding door he’d seen earlier. He opened it.
“Hello?” said a voice.
But it wasn’t Ariana’s. No. It was a bit too high pitched. Too small.
As he stepped into the room, he saw a little girl, no more than five or six years old, sitting up on her bed. Damn it. Risciter didn’t like this one bit. He’d never thought there would be children here. He supposed these whores sometimes birthed brats, though, didn’t they? He shot a glance around the room, making sure there were no more. There was only Ariana, and she was stirring a little on her bunk.
“Who are you?” asked the little girl. “Where’s my mommy?”
Ariana made a noise in her sleep, rolling over.
Risciter really didn’t relish the idea of killing children. There was something about how small they were that made it feel vaguely disgusting. But this child was a loose end. She’d seen him. He had a story to spin about the events that had taken place here tonight. She could ruin everything. And right then, she was going to keep talking and wake Ariana up. He grimaced, but stepped over to the little girl and seized her pillow.
“Who are you?” she said again.
Risciter shoved the pillow in her face. Her tiny body struggled for a very, very long time, during which Risciter found himself retching a few times. He really didn’t like killing children.
But eventually, it was done.
Risciter felt the little girl’s pulse to make sure she was dead. Her small lips had a bluish-purplish cast to them that made Risciter feel sick again. He quickly turned away from her to Ariana. Ariana was small enough to be moved easily. He crossed to her bunk, shoved his drugged handkerchief over her mouth and nose. She wouldn’t wake until he was ready for her to wake.