Natural Born Killer

[Velveteen]

It was far too easy. The he could seduce her with little more than a touch, a word or his very presence. She knew exactly what he was doing yet she did not have it in her to even try and resist let alone be angry. But her husband was right. She did want to know. She wanted to know every detail from start to finish. What had happened, what would happen, his plans, his next move. That darkness drawing her like a moth to it’s fiery death. It was as if he had read her mind. She nodded despite the delicious sliver of pleasure that caused her to tremble ever so slightly beneath his lips.

Velveteen had her suspicions from the little she had pieced together before he arrived and caught her reading. The connection was obvious but the woman thrived on details. She needed to to know everything and she needed to be told no matter how well she knew something, she always needed that confirmation. Without that she always felt like she was guessing and it left room for her to second guess herself. It didn’t matter how many times she was right, until she heard it spoken from another, in this case her husband, there was always that possibility that she could be wrong. No matter how small that chance was it was too much. She dealt in facts. Considering her medium abilities and strong spiritual connections coupled with her scientific and factual career, Velveteen was very much not the norm. In many ways the woman was a walking contradiction and she had long since accepted that about herself, as did her husband. He understood on her levels that no one had ever even dare try.

A barely heard whimper of disappointed escaped her when he moved away in favour of the journal, but at the same time it allowed her to concentrate on what he was saying and less on what he was doing. His sudden change in tone was abrupt and felt like a slap to the face that soon ripped her mind harshly from the lovely little fog it had been enveloped in only moments before. It was like a switch had been flipped in him and suddenly he was a completely different person. Her gaze shifted from his face to the journal and as he begin to explain she immediately understood. He was protecting himself from the pain and sadness that he had been running from for too many years now. Perhaps now….once this was done he could finally find some peace and be able to let go of the anger. Maybe.

Now that he had her complete attention her mind whirred into action and her silver orbs narrowed thoughtfully. Bunny had obviously done a very good job getting this information together but there had to be more. It was one thing to have enough to have information to have him locked up but if her suspicions were correct there was likely more and in her experience what was laid on the table before her could have easily been argued as hearsay. Circumstantial evidence created by a bitter lover at best. What they needed was a full colour picture to fully illustrate the true depths of the good doctor’s depravity. The manhunt for the killer of a monster was way less likely to attract the same attention that the killer of a hero would and for all intents and purposes, Dr Truman was considered a hero by the public and his peers. What better way to destroy a man than to completely obliterate his legacy for generations to come.

A small smile formed upon her lips and she lifted her gaze to find those violet pools looking straight back at her. “:It has been a while. I think I would like that….very much.” She purred softly.

[Velveteen]

A couple of nights later....

Velveteen closed Savannah’s diary, her hand still resting on the book as she considered all that she had read. The guilt she was feeling at keeping Levi hidden from Micah was beginning to eat at her but it just wasn’t time yet. She had decided that after the Truman thing was taken care of, sober or not, Micah was going to meet the man that she was one hundred and fifty percent certain was his father. She hadn’t told Levi yet either...so it was going to be a surprise to both men and not a pleasant one she suspected but the both had a right to at least know the other if nothing else. From what she had been reading she suspected that Savannah would agree, if Levi was sober of course. It was simply tragic that it was Levi’s weaknesses and addictive nature that prevented them being together. Even more tragic to watch him acknowledge it and at the same time simply accept it. As much as he claimed to have loved her….it just didn’t seem to have been enough.

The raven haired vampire frowned and pushed upwards, away from the desk she had been seated at. For one thing to happen the other had to end and it seemed that Dr Truman still had secrets, yet to be exposed. From the things she had read it seemed that the Doctor kept a more personal record of encounters. Unfortunately the page that seemed most likely to hold those details had been torn out leaving very little evidence of its existence. But why would someone take just one page? With all the possibly incriminating evidence that was housed within the time worn pages, why not destroy it all? Perhaps he figured it would never be read. Perhaps with his reputation he could dispute the hearsay and the words of a woman scorned? It was unfortunate that the laws for order and justice could be twisted so absurdly that they could protect the guilty. It was an endless battle and Velveteen had seen it more than a few times in her works within the system.

The woman stopped, realising that she had been pacing as the cogs of her mind worked and whirred. A thought that lingered on the outskirts her mind seemed to nag at her while remaining just outside the grasp of her consciousness. Something….she was missing. Something was not making sense. Why did Savannah just allow herself to die if she knew what was happening. It made no sense. She must have had some sort of proof to base her accusations even if they were never shared. Perhaps it was time the necromancer sought out the woman herself.

Up until now she had managed to shut out the whispers and the increasing uncomfortability that came with knowing she was constantly under the watchful eye of the spirit realm. She had felt their presence. The light brushing against her skin. The whisper that ghosted across her exposed skin near her ear. The frigidity aroused by their physical manifestation as they did they best to gain her attention. She had managed to ignore them. Push them to the darkest recesses of her being, not ready to open those flood gates. Once she did so there would be no going back and until now she was not ready to give up the silence.

Sterling orbs fell on the book once more and she stumbled forward as if being pushed from behind and fingers, tipped with pointed black nails fanned through the aged pages until she came to the one that wasn’t there. The tips of her fingers ran slowly over the page. The handwritten letters neatly scrolled across the page but it wasn’t what she could see that she was looking for. It was what she couldn’t see that she truly hoped to find. It was simple trick and one that many learned in early stages of school. Taking up a lead pencil she began to lightly cover the page. The indentations left in the paper from what had been written on the page before were highlighted but unfortunately the ink beneath made whatever was written there obscure and impossible to read. However, the following entry was short and the words below began to come together on the yellowing paper. Savannah’s hand writing was fluid and it appeared the woman generally wrote with a soft hand but occasionally it appeared that her emotions would cause her to apply more pressure. That would certainly seem the case as Velveteen could easily read what the childhood trick had revealed.

She was right. There was indeed a reason the woman never fought back or tried to expose him. Besides not having the financial means or the physical evidence to take on the man that many thought a saint he had threatened her child and she did what any mother would do...whatever she had to to protect him. Velveteens gaze narrowed. That explained a lot but still parts of the puzzle remained exactly that….a puzzle. There was still more to learn and only one way to do it. It was time she made a housecall of her own.

It wasn’t difficult to find where the Doctor was staying. Nor was it hard to surmise that he had security up to the eyebrows. The security wasn’t a concern, Velveteen had not planned on taking the front door anyway. Once around the side of the building away from prying eyes she looked around once more to be sure that a stray human wasn’t lounging in darkened doorway or dumpster diving before calling the shadows to herself and becoming virtually invisible. Her palms met the cold, unforgiving hardness of the concrete wall as she slowly began to climb up the vertical side. Crouched low she scrambled straight up the side of the building to the eleventh floor where Dr Truman’s room was. Security would be focused on the actual entrance, not the balcony that was inaccessible unless you could fly or you know….climb walls.

The Necromancer climbed the railing and landed against the concrete with feline stealth, barely making a sound as she remained perfectly still on the off chance that she had attracted any attention. The heavy curtains were pulled shut and the lack of light from within meant that the occupants was either sleeping or had not yet returned to his room. Either scenario was fine by her though the latter was definitely preferable. Once certain that she had gone undetected she moved towards the large glass sliding doors and gave a slight tug as she tested for difficulty levels. She was in luck, it was unlocked and moved soundlessly along the well oiled metal runner. Wind caught the heavy curtains momentarily but she was in and had the door shut so fast that one would be forced to wonder if they didn’t imagine it. As she had hoped the room was indeed empty and she went to work.

Dr Truman was a serial offender. That much they had learned from Savannah’s own hand. Those sorts of offenders tended to keep trophies of their conquests so they could relive the moment at their leisure and as often as they desired. It was basic profiling and stood to reason that he would at least cary part of if not all of his memoirs in the forms of writings, photographs, small trinkets or whatever his chosen method was. That was what she needed to find without even knowing what she was looking for. She had no idea how long Truman would be gone or when he would return so she got straight to business searching all the obvious places first. Taped to the underside of draws, lifted areas of carpet, behind fixtures that appeared permanent, in a plastic bag and immersed in the toilet cistern, all those places people hid things that they didn’t want found. Unfortunately her efforts had proved fruitless so far as she turned her attention to the more ordinary drawers and closets. It was when she turned on the lamp by the bed that she noticed an odd lump beneath the blankets. Throwing the covers back she deadpanned, glaring at the black leather bound satchel tied closed with what appeared to be a woman’s scarf.

Surely it couldn’t be this easy. Was this guy that sure of himself? Could this be not at all what she was looking for? A sound from outside the door drew her attention and she looked over her shoulder as the muted sound of voices reached her ears. She had no idea if the Doctor had returned home or if some other guest of the hotel was just making their way home but she had no plans of hanging around to find out. With the satchel tucked neatly under her arm she escaped the same way she came in though left the door open an inch or so. She wanted him to know that someone had been there and that his missing stash was not just a lapse of memory on his behalf. What was he going to do anyway? Report it? She highly doubted it. If this was what she hoped it was, Dr Truman was going to wish he had burned it decades ago.

[Micah]

It was time.

Micah stood outside the hotel that Dr Truman had made his current residence and stared up at the general area where his room was located. He’d moved hotels a few times and each time Micah found him with no issue. Each time a single stargazer lily made it’s way onto the good doctor’s pillow, followed by the ring finger of a member of the security detail Dr Truman was paying the big bucks to for protection. Unfortunately, not even the best the city had to offer was enough to protect him from the wrath of one very pissed off vampire hell bent on extracting revenge. There was one guard left. The Killer had to admire his loyalty but it was going to be his downfall. Tonight, he was going to lose his life and Micah was going to take the grand prize.

Dr. Curtis Truman himself.

Micah was in disguise. The same disguise that he had been in the night his wife had discovered what he was up to. There was no reason to hide, so he strolled up to the revolving doors of the posh hotel with an over confident swagger that was unlike him. He didn’t bother to stop at the front desk and instead made his way to the elevator where he pushed the button for the penthouse. Nothing but the best for the good doctor after all. When the doors slid closed he pulled out a pair of black latex gloves and slide them onto his hands. Eternity was drawn and a fresh clip of ammo was loaded. He didn’t plan to fire her unless he needed to. It would all depend on the security guard that was sure to be guarding the door.

However, when the doors slid open he was met with an empty hallway. No guard to be seen. What the ****? The Killer was disappointed at first. He wouldn’t get an appetizer, or so he thought. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of raised voices coming from the closed doorway.

“IT WAS RIGHT HERE YOU IMBECILE!! MY ROOM HAS BEEN COMPROMISED, AGAIN!”

“Im terribly sorry sir but there has been no one in or out of here-”

“LIES!! That door was CLOSED! LOOK AT IT! It’s cracked, and something of great importance has been stolen. If that book gets out I AM RUINED!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?”

“Sir. Please calm yourself. No one was in here. Not a soul.”

So someone had broken into the good doctor’s room and had taken something extremely valuable. Not in the monetary sense, but something that could ruin the doctor’s reputation. Micah chuckled softly as a grin spread across his face. “Oh baby you are one tricky woman. What have you taken from Dr Curtis? Let’s just find out, shall we?” Of course it had to be Vel. No one else would have been interested in the doctor, but he’d know for sure once he stepped into the room.

The knob turned easily under his hand and he threw the doors open. Instantly he was hit in the face with a scent that was intimately familiar to him. His wife had been there, and recently as her scent was still fresh. The doctor and his security guard turned at exactly the same time. The look of surprise on their faces amused him to no end. Obviously they hadn’t been expecting company that evening. Shame.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

Micah raised an eyebrow at the good doctor’s question. “Oh I am sure you have a feeling about me. Deep down, Dr. Dick, you know exactly who I am.” From the inside pocket of his jacket a box was extracted and set on the table. On top of that went one pristine stargazer lily. The color drained from the doctor’s face when he saw the gifts. The Killer smiled, pleased that the human understood the significance of the items. “Sorry about the condition of the finger. She fought like a wounded tiger. Her screams were delicious though.” He got the reaction he wanted. The guard rushed at him, hoping to subdue him but Micah quickly got the upper hand. His hands gripped the guards head and gave a sharp twist. The sound echoed throughout the otherwise silent room and the human fell to the floor, dead.

Dr. Truman tried to run, but Micah was faster. His hand wrapped around Truman’s throat as the man tried to run around him. “Oh no Dr. Truman you aren’t getting away from me that easily.” Finally. After months of meticulous planning, numerous deaths and several glorious mindfucks Dr Truman was his. “I’ve got so much planned for you, Truman. I can’t wait to show you.” Eternity was pressed against the human’s sternum. “But first, you’re going to walk out of here with me. You’re going to smile, and put on the performance of a lifetime. If you even let the slightest hint slip that you’re in deep **** I will slaughter every man, woman and child in this hotel while you watch. You’ve a lot to atone for Truman and I’m going to make sure you do. Do you understand me?” The doctor nodded shakily. “Good boy.”

Micah released the human and shoved Eternity into his back. “Move ***********. To the elevator, then outside. Once there head for the black truck with the tinted windows. You’ll know it when you see it.” Realizing he had no choice, Truman nodded and started walking. Micah followed closely, pausing only briefly to survey the room. He hadn’t discovered what Vel had taken yet, but he would. It was only a matter of time.

[Velveteen]

Once outside and under the cover of darkness, pale fingers wrapped about the miniature silver tome that hung around her neck from a matching silver chain. She had especially requested that her husband imbue the piece of jewellery with the magicks that was more generally carried out on larger items. It had worked and the tome very rarely ever left her person. The incantation was uttered quietly and at the very moment she disappeared the curtain was pulled back. The blinding flash of light and frantic look of the male’s face were the last things she saw before she found herself standing at the altar on the fourth floor of the Eyrie. She recognised the man as the same one who had been making headlines lately. The very same man that her husband had been slowly pushing over the edge.

Velveteen stood still as she listened to the silence. Her husband’s aura shimmered faintly on the air though it seemed he had left a little while ago. With the satchel clutched to her chest she made her way to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She was still unsure of what she might have yet, if anything, and did not want Micah seeing it until she knew what there was to see. It could all be nothing but if it wasn’t…..Well, she would deal with that if and when it happened.

The tiles were hard and cold as she sunk to her knees and laid the leather bag against the black tiles. The scarf that was tied around it was untied and the bag was upended, unceremoniously dumping the contents out on the floor. She sat back on her haunches, slightly confused by what she found. A various assortment of flash drives. A key. A business card for a local bank. A folder of papers, legal documents mainly, that she would give more attention to later. And lastly a bundle of letters that looked like they had been tied together as they were now for decades. Deep lines etched across her brow. What she wanted wasn’t here. The necromancer had no doubt that the flash drives likely contained all sort of colourful information about the man of the hour but the one thing she wanted was not here, and it was going to take hours to search those thumb drives.

The business card was taken up and she studied the small embossed writing across the shiny surface. She knew the bank. They sported state of the art security and all the good **** that seemed to appeal to the upper echelons for the safe keeping of their precious collateral in safety boxes that were supposed to be accessible twenty four hours a day. The only bank of its kind in town. Velveteen tapped the card against her chin thoughtfully as she sunk down onto the floor and leaned her back against the solid side of the bathtub. All sense of urgency gone with the hope of finding what she sought. The key was cold as the precisely shaped metal was rolled over in her palm, two and two slowly coming together. The key and the card went together. It made sense. Both were stuffed into her pocket for later investigation as she relaxed t peruse the remaining contents. Letter or documents? Letters or documents? **** it. Legal **** was boring. They could wait.

The red ribbon that bound the aged mail together was pulled loose and set aside as she began to scan through the addressed fronts of the opened envelopes. The first thing that she noticed is that none were addressed to Truman himself. “And the plot thickens.” Her words uttered to the silence as she continued to inspect both the front and back of each envelope before moving onto the next. She was almost flying on auto pilot and not really taking those things she was reading until one name pulled her from her quiet musings. Savannah Andrews. Her fingers froze and it suddenly occurred to her that all the return addresses were the same. The hospital in which Savannah died. The very same hospital that Curtis Truman worked in. The next surprise was who the the letter was addressed to. Levi Cole. This may not have been the pot of gold that Velveteen had been searching for but it was close.

The rest of the pile was set aside as she peeled the envelope open and withdrew the neatly folded paper inside. A single page of precisely lined scratchings written with an unsteady hand.

Velveteen lifted her head and tilted it to the side as she listened for the slightest of noises outside the door. The quiescent state of the rooms beyond signified that she was indeed, still quite alone and her attention returned to the page that now laid open in her hand. The woman felt almost guilty as she begun to read the faded words of a woman she had never met but felt she had come to know. Like a peeping tom she stood outside peering through shadows of time and into the window of her husband’s past. Something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Like a thief in a stolen moment, she began to read…

To my Dearest Levi,

It has been far too long and I hope and pray that this letter finds you well and happy. I can also only hope that after all this time you have managed to find it in your heart to forgive me for things that happened so many years ago. If you haven’t, I cannot blame you but there are some things you must know.

I have spent many a night hoping that one day you would come back to me. That you would have fought the demons that forever chased you so that you could come home. But you never did. I never blamed you for that and if things were different I would probably wait for you for years to come. Unfortunately, it is not to be.

Before I get into that there is something else must tell you and again I can only hope that in time you will forgive me and understand why I did what I did. That night that you came home drunk after drinking and gambling what little money we had away I was so mad. Mad that you couldn’t stay sober enough for me to tell you that we were going to have a baby. And so I threw you out without ever telling you that you were going to be a father because the way you were, you were not responsible enough to have been one.

So yes, Levi. You have a son. His name is Micah and he is a good boy. He reminds me of you in so many ways. Often he has asked about you and I have avoided answering his questions because I never did know exactly what to say. He thinks you left us of your own free will and I have let him believe that. It seemed easier at the time.

I guess you find it odd that I am telling you this now. The truth is that I don’t have much longer left. I have been sick for a while now and am running out of time. The doctors did all they could I suppose. It just wasn’t meant to be. But without me you are all he has left and he is so angry. He tries to hide it from me but I can see it and I worry for him.

I know you loved me once, and if you could please try and reach out now to our son then I will be able to rest easy and know that he wont be left alone in this world. That he will have someone to watch out for him when I am gone. Please Levi….For him, for me and for everything we once shared could you please do this.

I never told you this and maybe it might have changed things, maybe it wouldn't have but you have always been my One, Levi. I have never stopped loving you.

Always yours
Savannah

P.S In case you are wondering I had to hire a private detective to track you down. I am both happy and sad that you never did settle down.

For the longest time she just stared at the paper not even realising that she had had been crying until a single tear fell and soaked into the paper. It was tragic.

She wiped her face dry and tucked the letter away. It was proof the needed as far as Levi went. The letter that he should have received all those years ago will finally make its way into his hands. Her husband would also be getting a copy as maybe it will answer some of those questions he had. Perhaps this letter might be key in bringing those two together without Levi being murdered.

The one big question that did still remain is why Truman even had this letter. She pulled it back out once more only to note that there was no postmark. The letter had not even made it that far which means it was intercepted before even being sent. The deeper she dug the more sinister this felt. Once again Savannah;s pleading message was tucked away and she hurriedly stuffed the rest of the things back into the satchel minus the key and the business card she had found earlier. The leather bag was was then shoved into the cabinet below the bathroom sink. Her night was not quite over yet.

[Micah]

“Where are you taking me?”

Silence met Truman’s question, so he asked another. “Who are you?” Again he was met with silence, so he tried another. “What do you want with me?”

Micah hit the breaks unexpectedly, sending Truman flying forward, his face smashing against the windshield. “Oops. I apologize.” The killer’s words were snide, not a single hint of an apology to be heard. “You’re supposed to be a doctor. Don’t you know seatbelts save lives?” The doctor groaned and touched his forehead where a gash had appeared from his head connecting with the unforgiving surface. It was bleeding sluggishly and the alluring scent of fresh human blood filled the confines of the small cab, but Micah wasn’t tempted. His need for vengeance outweighed any possible hunger he might be experiencing.

Up ahead Micah could see the entrance for the hotel. it wasn’t much. Someone wouldn’t know it was there if they didn’t know what they were looking for but he did. He’d found it, along with his wife, one evening and they’d decided to make it their own for the line they had created. Truman was babbling, apologizes flying out of his mouth and promises that the killer knew would never come to fruition. A man like Truman was never going to change but Micah wasn’t even going to give him the chance.

“WHO ARE YOU????”

Truman had finally grown a pair and allowed himself to get angry. Micah put the truck in park and turned to give the good doctor his full attention. “I suppose introductions are in order. One should be able to meet their killer without disguises before they die, don’t you agree Curtis?” A few twists and stretches allowed Micah to manipulate his body to return to his proper size. The gloves were peeled off of his hands and the contacts were removed. “Oh thats right. You can’t see me properly in the dark. You are, after all, only a human.” The interior light came on and Truman drank in the appearance of his captor like a starving man being given his first meal in months. What little color left drained from the doctor’s face once he saw the eyes. “Your eyes….” he whispered and Micah grinned.

“Yes. I have my mother’s eyes. But in case you’ve forgotten allow me to introduce myself. My name is Micah Andras, but you know me as Micah Andrews.” He could see the light go on as recognition dawned in Truman’s eyes. “So you do remember me. I should hope so. After all, you were almost my step daddy. Thank **** that never happened.” Eternity appeared and was pressed against Truman’s forehead. “Now get the **** outta the truck and start walking towards that light.” Truman looked confused forcing Micah to sigh in exasperation. “Right there dumb ***.” He gestured to the north with the gun. “Just get the **** out. Christ. How a stupid mother ****** like you ever became a doctor I’ll never know.”


Truman got out of the truck, but the second his feet hit the ground he took off running. Nevermind that he was out in the middle of nowhere and had no hope of finding his way - no, the only thing he cared about was getting as far away from Micah as he possibly could. Micah shook his head and brought Eternity up, stared down the sight and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew from the barrel and hit Truman in the upper thigh, sending him sprawling. That didn’t stop him from continuing his escape attempt. He resorted to crawling, but Micah caught up with him in seconds. The killer grabbed the doctor by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. “That was a stupid move. You’ve just prolonged your suffering. I hope you know that.” Truman seemed to suddenly understand the position he was in as the begging and pleading started, and when that didn’t work he attempted to resort to a low blow.

“Your mother would hate you for this.”

Micah stopped dead in his tracks. Did he really go there? Judging by the smug look on Truman’s face it was apparent that the human thought that he was going to get somewhere by bringing Savannah into it. It didn’t work like that. “Shut up,” Micah hissed, releasing his grip on the doctor who stumbled trying to stay on his feet due to the pain from the bullet lodged deep in his thigh. “You know it’s true,” Truman spat back. “Your mother was a gentle spirit. She’d be horrified to see what you’ve become.” Micah reacted. His fist connected with the side of Truman’s head, knocking the human out cold. “We’ll never know that, now will we? Thanks to you.” Grabbing Truman’s arms, Micah drug him the rest of the way to the hotel and shoved him none too gently into the elevator, hitting the button for the underground. It was a short ride, and when the doors opened, Micah dragged the doctor out into the open space and dropped him in the middle of the floor, then set off to begin the preparations for the upcoming festivities.

Once Micah was finished securing Truman to his chair, a bucket of ice water was produced and dumped over the human. Truman’s head jerked up and his eyes snapped open, his gaze landing on the man standing in front of him with a bucket in his hand. “Oh good. You’re awake. I’ve worked hard to make everything just so Dr Truman, so I do hope you enjoy the scenery. Truman blinked water out of his eyes, unable to wipe them clear. “What is this?” He asked in a rather groggy voice. Micah chuckled and flicked on the spotlights, flooding the room with bright light. “Group therapy.”

Dr Curtis Truman got his first look at what he was dealing with. He was tied to a chair, sitting in a circle surrounded by every single member of his dead security detail. Each of their necks were broken, each was missing the ring finger on their left hand, and each one had a vibrant, perfect, stargazer lily placed just so on their laps. Truman screamed, and Micah simply grinned. “Let the games begin.”

[Velveteen]

Time was wasting as she sat staring at the unhelpful glow of the computer screen. The information on what was needed to access the safety deposit box area was gleaned from the bank’s website in minutes. The first test would be one of facial recognition. A simple once over by the guard on duty and a comparison photo that had been logged into the system. Nothing that changeling couldn’t take care of, what, with the man’s face all over the media and the brief encounter earlier Velveteen was sure she could manage a passable likeness. Secondly, a key to access the box was required. This one had been obtained and was nestled safely in the deep lining of her pocket. Lastly, a PIN that would require input firstly at the front door and then again to access the area the housed Dr. Truman’s darkest secrets and most prized treasures. It was the last that was causing her issue. She had used every hacking trick she knew and had so far produced nought for her efforts.

The stark white cursor blinked against the dark blue background of the login page. While this wouldn’t make her privy to the contents of what Truman kept locked away there it would allow her access to his online account and hopefully the information she sought. Due to the high security features that this particular institution boasted it was a one time chance. Each time the password was entered incorrectly a lock out timer was put in place before you could try again. Three failed attempts and an alert was sent to bank security for investigation.

“Come on Vel...think.” A balled fist knocked at her own temple in frustration. Twice she had guessed wrong and now she was on her last chance before whatever lay in the bowels of that safe would be lost to her forever. “Come oooon. People are predictable remember? He is a slimy, egotistical prick. You are overthinking this.” Again she knocked at her temple before slumping back in her chair, scowling at the cursor that taunted her in the darkness. “Come on Truman. What is it you ****?” The words hissed through her teeth as she stared up towards the ceiling.

“Cancer.”

Velveteen sat bolt upright as a female voice whispered the single word in the darkness at her shoulder. Her head swivelled on her neck as she searched the dimly lit areas behind her and found nothing. Her smooth brow furrowed as she turned back to the computer and leaned forward until her fingers hovered above the keyboard, flexing with uncertainty. Both running out of time and patience the vampire tapped out the letters on the keyboard and then paused, her finger poised over the enter button. “It either is or...it isn’t, right?” Though she had to admit, it made sense and was so completely obvious. She pressed enter and instead of the red flashing letters that had been presented to her prior the timer came up, signifying her success.

“******* Thank You!” She exclaimed as her hands slammed down onto the desk victoriously. Soon….Soon she would have the answers. Once into the Dr’s account she was able to access his personal information including the PIN required to access the box. She scrawled the numbers down onto a piece paper. It was plainly obvious it was someone’s birth date but whose was anyone’s guess and right now the raven haired vampire did not care either. She grabbed her phone and stuffed it into a pocket before heading to the portal only to stop mid step. Her current attire was not going to do….not going to do at all. A small detour would take her by Scott and Bunny’s hut where she would acquire a pair of black men’s dress pants, a white button down shirt and black tie. She highly doubted that Dr. Truman would turn up to anything dressed head to toe in tight, body hugging leather. Hopefully no one would be interested in her shoes enough to notice that they did not really go with the outfit.

Straightening the tie she stepped into the electrically charged air that tore a hole in the fabric of reality and allowed her to appear on the platform at Bullwood Station instantaneously. She held her hands up to her face and turned them slowly. She did not recognise the aged, liver spotted skin that covered them. They were completely foreign to her except for the familiar ashen colour of her skin. The Necromancer grunted in disgust at the hands that had never seen a day of manual labour. She felt tainted just wearing his image. Thankfully, after this she would never have to again. So far it seemed that all was going well as no one really gave the nondescript male hanging in the shadows wearing gothic women’s boots a second glance, though she was careful to avoid being caught in the bright white judgement of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

The walk to the bank was short, even in the below freezing temperatures. The icy air meant that there were very few humans out wandering around, which in turn meant far less chance of her being seen. With Dr. Truman being such a well known face she did not want to risk being seen by anyone who might recognise him or worse still, actually know the man.

Standing outside the building, Velveteen looked up and drew a breath, releasing it slowly as she silently convinced herself that she had this. Approaching the small keypad she entered the numbers and waited. The mere second it took for the light to flash to green, followed by the metallic click that indicated that the door was now unlocked seemed to take an eon. She was half expecting it not to work and for alarms to start shrieking their violation unto the night. She slipped in through the open doors and waited for it to lock behind her before venturing to small well lit cubicle off to the side of the large, expensive looking entry way.

“Evening Dr Truman. It looks cold out tonight.”

Velveteen brought a hand up and raked it through her hair, quickly catching the surprised expression that possessed her features momentarily. She simply nodded and stepped up to the line that was indicated on the floor. The amount of light flooding the area caused inner panic but she had come this far.

“Look straight ahead please.” The guard instructed as the facial comparisons were made. The male frowned and turned his gaze on her. “You don’t look well. Are you feeling alright, Doctor.”

She was afraid to speak, unsure of what exactly would come out. Certain that her own voice was likely nothing like that of the one she was currently impersonating. She dropped her head as she made to search her pocket, hoping that the action would somewhat muffle her voice as she spoke, doing her best to take on a man voice. “Of course I am. If you don’t mind I am in a hurry.” She turned to face the door that was grant her pass and take her one step closer to where she wanted to be.

“Of course. I will be here if you need anything.”

Velveteen lifted a hand in acknowledgement as the metal door slide open. Once inside it closed behind her and she let out a sigh of relief. So close. Another flashing green light and another door later she was in the room that housed the wealth and secrets of the city. It took her a moment to locate the box with the number that matched that key and with nervous hands she unlocked the small locker type door and slid the long metal box out of its slot in the wall. In the middle of the room stood a table and two lonely chairs. A place where people paw over their treasures a in private. She was also very aware of the security cameras that watched her, or rather they watched Curtis Truman, from every corner of the room.

Velveteen opened the box slowly, as one might open a christmas present, a practice meant to prolong the suspense and excitement. What she did find was more boxes. But unlike those things he carried with him these boxes were labelled. Women’s names and dates were the only things that distinguished one long flat box from the other. It occurred to her that these names were possibly the identities of others who had suffered similar fates to Savannah and be that as it may, Velveteen was not here to play people’s champion. She was here for one person and one person only. The box she wanted was extracted and she took a moment to check the contents. The page that had been torn from the woman’s journal was there along with several more papers, a flash drive and personal notes that appeared to be in Truman’s own hand writing. This was what she had hoped to find. She tucked the box under her arm and made her way toward the door. She had no inclination to tidy up his mess and perhaps….left for someone else to see then just maybe….maybe the world would also know the true nature of their favourite Doctor.

She slipped through the doors and dipped her head at the guard as she passed by. She had almost reached the main exit when the guard called out.

“Hey! Stop.”

She had no idea why he was yelling at her and she didn’t stop to find out but instead fled out into the night, escaping into the shadows, her retreat covered by the blanket of snow that fell softly to earth.

[Micah]

Micah had pulled a chair into the empty space left in the macabre circle. He’d changed his shirt and was now wearing a black button down, and had added a silver tie. A pair of cheater reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose and he was holding a pen and writing tablet. The killer almost looked professional if it hadn’t been for the handgun attached to the waistband of his jeans. He scribbled something on the tablet and looked up with a charming smile on his face. “Welcome to group therapy ladies and gentlemen.” His tone was warm and welcoming, and would have set anyone at ease but it only served to frighten the one living human further. “We’re going to get started by playing a game. We’ll start off small, and work our way up to the more difficult questions. For each correct answer you’ll earn a chance to move on to the next round. For each wrong answer you’ll earn a bullet, or maybe lose a finger. I haven’t quite decided yet.” Truman whimpered and struggled against the wire that held him to the chair. Micah glared at him over his cheater glasses and wrapped his hand around the grip of his gun. “There is no talking during group therapy Truman!” The killer aimed and fired off a random shot that lodged a bullet in the foot of one of the only female guards. Even though she was dead, the threat was enough to force Truman to cease his struggles.

“Now that that pesky little issue is out of the way, let's begin.” Another charming grin was given and another notation made on the tablet. Micah could smell Truman’s fear. It was intoxicating. Vel was so right. Fear was a very potent emotion, and it was also a powerful one. Knowing that he was causing Truman to experience such blinding terror? Well that just made the killer almost giddy with the anticipation of what was yet to come. Truman may not enjoy the game, but Micah sure as **** would. Especially once he revealed the very special surprise Bunny had gone out of her way to secure. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment to reveal it.

“Question one. Who is the biggest scumbucket in the room?” Silence. Micah frowned and scribbled on his tablet, nodding his head. “Thats close Jasmine, but not quite the correct answer. I’m afraid my associate will have to remove your thumbnail.” He looked towards the closed door. “Batter up Buns!” The small, blonde thrall came waltzing into the room holding a pair of pliers. Micah pointed to the female wearing a nametag with the correct name, and Bunny made her way over and completed her task. The nail was dropped in a bowl on the table then the thrall disappeared through the same door she’d entered through. The fear pouring off Truman increased and Micah drew in a deep breath, allowing it to fill his senses. If he was this afraid now, the end result was going to be delicious.

“Question two. Who likes to play God with other people's lives?” The killer looked around the room, an expectant look on his face that quickly turned to frustration and disappointment. “Y’all suck at question time. No Fred, I’m sorry but that is the wrong answer.” Fred was met with a bullet between the eyes. He’d been in the morgue for a few days so there was no blood to be seen from the bullet’s entry point. “You people better start putting more effort into therapy, or else you aren’t going to like the end results.” The threat hung heavy in the air and Truman started to struggle once more, harder this time forcing the wire to cut into his skin. Micah shook his head sadly but let it slide. There was still one final question to be asked.

“Last question. Who killed my mother?” Micah didn’t expect an answer, but as his gaze landed on Truman he could see the beads of sweat that started to appear on his brow. The killer’s gaze never left Truman’s face regardless of the fact that the good doctor was looking everywhere but at him. “Tsk. Nobody? How...disappointing.” The gun came up, slowly moving over each corpse sitting in their respective chair until it was pointed directly at Truman. “Curtis? You’ve been awfully quiet during tonight’s session. How do you expect to move on to the next round if you don’t participate?” Micah got to his feet, placing the tablet and pen on the now vacant chair. The gun remained pointed at Truman. “Tell me Curtis. I’m sure you of all people know the answer to my question.” His finger rested on the trigger, the urge to pull it and end the game prematurely overwhelming but he didn’t give in. He still had so much to share with the good doctor. The killer asked again. “Who killed my mother, Curtis? Come now. Don’t be shy. You’re surrounded by friends here.”

Truman remained silent, which Micah had expected. “That’s alright Curtis. You don’t really need to answer, especially since I already know what you did.” Still the doctor remained silent. “I see you’re going to need a little bit of persuasion in order to talk. Lucky me, I have the perfect thing to get you to do just that. Bunny! Reveal the surprise.”

The door swung open completely, revealing a smaller room. It was far from empty but the focal point was being wheeled out and into the room where Micah was holding his special brand of therapy. Strapped to a rickety prize wheel that Micah had stolen from a run down carnival was Dr Truman’s wife. The killer kept his eyes on the doctor, waiting for him to notice the new addition and he wasn’t disappointed by the reaction. Truman’s eyes widened and his struggles started up in earnest as he fought to free himself to get to his wife. “You sick ****! She’s innocent! She’s not done **** to you. Let her go. It’s me you want so take me in her place.” Micah’s head tilted to the side, pretending to consider the request. It didn’t take him long to respond.

“No.”

Ignoring Truman’s pleading the killer moved across the room and stopped at the prize wheel. He grabbed the handle on the side and gave the wheel a spin. The female screamed as she spun around and around. A few strands of her dark red hair got stuck in the gears, forcing them to be pulled out at the root. “Round and round and round she goes, where she stops nobody knows.” Bunny appeared at his side, holding a bucket full of knives. “If I hit her in the head do I get a prize?” The thrall grinned and nodded her head. Micah waited until she had slowed almost to a stop before he grabbed a knife and whipped it at the wheel. Truman lunged forward, terrified for his wife but the knife lodged into the wood right beside her head.

The close call made the doctor snap. “I DID IT!! I KILLED YOUR MOTHER!! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW YOU SICK ****??” At those words Micah smiled, retrieved his pad and pen, and returned to his seat. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

[Velveteen]

She didn’t go back to the Eyrie, not yet. She had to find out exactly what she had before she took it to her husband. If it was what she understood it to be then the potential to go very, very bad in an instant was high. Dr Truman’s fate had been sealed , that much was true and Velveteen had no sympathy for the man at this point but Micah was a whole other matter. She had seen the damage that man could cause when caught up in a blind rage. It wouldn’t be good for anybody in the area.

The Necromancer used the back entrance of the morgue and made her way down to the Realm. It was usually quiet and void of others when it wasn’t being used for a gathering or a night of friendly sparring. The security camera whirred into action at the intrusion and she looked up at the lense that peered at her. She had completely forgotten that she wasn’t quite looking like herself and would likely get a rude shock when going over security tapes a little later, but for now she headed straight for the couch and laid the box out on the table. The lid was removed with reverence as once again as she prepared to take another peek through the window of time and into her husband’s past. There were several items of interest but the first thing she wanted to know was what was written on that page that Dr Truman had gone to such great lengths to keep hidden.

The yellowed, folded page was lifted out carefully, unfolded and smoothed out with the palm of her liver spotted hands. She had completely forgotten that she still wore the monster’s face and the fact that the hands she saw were not her own was completely overshadowed by the need to unlock the mystery of events of the past….

Curtis is completely out of control.

The engagement is off of course. He ended that as soon as I was diagnosed but what he is doing is so very wrong. Perhaps the cancer itself was caused by the guilt that eats at me daily. I don’t want to keep this secret. I should never have. But how does someone like me fight someone like him.

He told me no one would believe me and it is true that I don’t have evidence. But those poor women. The go to him because they trust him as a professional and he takes complete advantage of them.

I walked in on him today. He was actually filming…. I can’t even write the words. The man sickens me to my stomach. If I didn’t need the money I would have quit several weeks ago but I just can’t afford to. Today though….today I tried to take a stand for every single woman whose rights he so flagrantly violated. The things he does is deplorable of any man let alone someone of his academic standing. He helps so many. The work he does saves lives yet in the shadows he destroys more and they don’t even know it.

I grabbed the camera while he was busy…..dressing. I was almost there. I almost made it out the door with more than enough evidence to have him put away but he stopped me. That he could even think to threaten me with taking away my only child showed what a true monster that man really is.

I was so angry. Now I am just scared. But I have no other choice than to play his sick little game. For now.

Maybe it is time that we left Texas anyway. It will take a little time to get the money together but I think this is what we will have to do.

I can’t believe I nearly married him.

God, please forgive me.

For the longest time she did not move as she read and reread. Her heart went out to the woman and the things she had gone through. Her own words were proof that she was every bit the mother that Micah had said she was and then some. Velveteen, herself, had never known or would ever know that sort of bond but understood it to some degree, especially when Micah spoke of his mother, without the anger, she could see that he still suffered from the loss.

For now the missing page was set aside as she explored the rest of the contents. Truman’s private notes were next and yet again she found herself completely shocked by what she read. Apparently, upon being discovered, the Doctor decided to take matters into his own hands, drugging his then fiancee of a night and giving her injections of a concoction laced with arsenic. Savannah had apparently displayed bouts of unwellness though no reason could be found by a general practitioner and without knowing what to look for the blood tests provided no evidence of anything abnormal….that was until the cancer.

It seemed that at the time the outlook was positive though as it had been caught early and with the correct treatment they expected a full recovery. Something that Truman did not want. He took over as her leading physician giving the woman no choice in the matter and continued with the fatal injections until even medical science could offer no more. What was worse and the most saddening part of it all was that He told her. She knew! But out of fear for her son and having no reason to doubt that Curtis would make true on his threats that escalated to threatening her boy’s life….she remained silent. Eventually taking her secret to the grave.

Velveteen felt as if she was caught up in the middle of some Hollywood thriller. A prank. Fiction come to life as she soaked up the words that jumped off the page at her, each delivering blow after shocking blow. She didn’t want to be reading this stuff. She just couldn’t stop herself.

Even in his notes he gloated about it being the perfect crime. There was absolutely no remorse for the suffering he was causing. Nothing. Just the words of a perverted, cold hearted monster that the world seemed to love and adore. He was not the first to do such a thing and he surely wouldn’t be the last but this time at least there was a little satisfaction in knowing that he would no longer be polluting the world with his vile filth.

Next out of the box was the thumb drive and she could only guess at what was on that. Every possibility causing her to feel sick to her stomach. That it was here meant that it, in all likelihood, contained his trophy moments and Savannah was the star. Probably things that no son or daughter should ever have to see. Aged hands curled about the small device and crushed it into small unrecognisable pieces, dropped on the floor and kicked about. Whatever was on that drive was now history and would never be seen another….ever.

”Thank you.”

Velveteen turned suddenly. That same voice that she had heard back at home was again at her ear but again there was no one there. After several moments of silence and few more wary glances to the shadowed corners of the large, empty space she returned her attention to the box and the last remaining item inside. Two different documents held together by a single paper clip. One was a power of attorney, granting Dr Truman control over Savannah’s estate and the second was the deed to the farmhouse where Micah grew up. The same house that had been in his family for generations was actually owned by Truman?

“****.” The vampire spat as she stood. She had to get to her husband. Truman couldn’t die until this was fixed or everything- the house, the contents, the family history that was stored there - would be lost to some stranger, likely his wife or children. That could not be allowed to happen. She began to hastily gather up the paperwork and put it back into the box, everything minus the flash drive that, as far as she was concerned, never existed anyway.

“You have no idea how long I have waited for this.”

That voice again except this time it wasn’t at her ear but from a place off to the side. Velveteen turned her head, expecting to be meet with an empty room once more but instead she froze, unprepared for a visitor. She gathered herself together and quickly placed the lid back on the box and tucked it under her arm protectively before she could give her company her full attention.

The shadows hid much of the intruder though the voice was distinctly female as were the features that Velveteen could see as she squinted slightly trying to bring the still somewhat fuzzy figure into focus. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”

“You know who I am.” The woman was soft spoken and had a sweet sounding southern accent.

Velveteen nodded. She knew…she just wasn’t quite ready to walk that route again but to deny this woman now was not an option. “It is you.”

Savannah stepped out from the shadows. The woman was petite with long dark hair and eyes that Velveteen would know anywhere. “You have to go to him. Now. Before it’s too late. There will be time for other things. When this is done. Go. Quickly.”

The air wavered and Velveteen stood alone in the empty room once more. It was entirely possible that she was going mad. She would like to believe otherwise but time would tell. Right now she had to get to Micah. He had to know the truth. Esoteric tendrils of thought stretched out to search the planes of reality for the one mind she was most connected with. ~Where are you? I have things to show you. Important things~

[Micah]

“Now. Curtis. I can call you Curtis, can’t I?” Micah peered at the bloody doctor over his cheater glasses but didn’t bother to wait for a response to his question. “Right then. Curtis it is. You say here in my notes from the group therapy session that I am a sick ****.” Another glance was afforded to the shell shocked Truman. The killer adjusted the frames of his glasses and cleared his throat. “You seem angry Curtis. Are you angry?” A reaction in the form of a grunt came from the captive doctor. “We should discuss your anger. Bottling it up will only make things worse Curtis.” His tone was patronizing, aimed to get under the doctor’s skin to force a more noticeable reaction. So far Micah was disappointed. “Tell me Curtis. How does that make you feel?”

Truman’s head shot up and he glared hatefully at Micah who was sitting there calmly as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Which he didn’t. “How does that make me feel? How does that MAKE ME FEEL??” Truman’s pale face flooded with color as he gave in to the anger he was feeling. “You got what you wanted. I admitted I killed your mother. That was what you wanted wasn’t it? A confession? Well you got it. Now let Lily go. She has nothing to do with this.” Truman couldn’t take his eyes off the unconscious form of his wife. She’d thrown up on Bunny, most likely from the spinning of the wheel she had been subjected to. Bunny had taken offense and slammed the handle of a knife into her temple knocking her out, but it was time for her to join them once more.

Micah ignored Truman for the time being and sent Bunny to fetch a bucket of ice water. Truman continued to rage, going on and on demanding that Lily be set free now that Micah had had what he wanted. Bunny appeared and silently handed Micah the bucket. He stood, placing his tablet on his chair and went to the wheel where Truman’s wife hung limply in her bonds. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of her face and the killer allowed himself to have a moment of pride for Bunny. He’d taught her well. “Wakey, wakey innocent little Lily.” The bucket was upended and a waterfall of icy cold water cascaded over Truman’s wife. With a gasp she jerked awake and looked around the room wildly. Her gaze landed on her husband and a horrified cry spilled from her mouth. Before she could speak, Bunny stuffed a silk hanky into her mouth and secured it with a piece of duct tape.

“Now that the little lady is awake, it’s time for her to find out what a pathetic piece of **** you are Curtis.” At that declaration Truman shut up. The pleading stopped and nothing further was said. Micah shook his head sadly. “Alright Truman. If you don’t want to confess your crimes in front of your wife then I guess I’m just going to have to take my anger out on her.” To prove his point Micah removed the duct tape and the gag, released one pale, delicate hand from the wheel and took hold of the thumb. With a flick of his wrist he broke the bone. She screamed in agony but he paid her no mind as he moved on to the next.

“WAIT!”

Micah paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Yes Curtis? Is there something you’d like to share with your wife?” Truman glared at him hatefully obviously resenting the position that he had been placed in.In Micah’s eyes it was poetic justice. All those dirty little secrets kept hidden for so many years were finally coming to light. It was about time. “Come now Curtis don’t be shy. Tell your wife all about your crimes. Tell her how you killed my mother.” A horrified gasp came from the redhead. “You’re lying…..Curtis?? He’s lying. Tell me he’s lying.” Lily’s voice had risen with each word she spoke until her voice was shrill enough to hurt Micah’s ears but Truman just sighed and hung his head. “No my dear, he’s telling the truth. I killed his mother 20 years ago.”

The only sounds were the heavy, panicked breathing of Truman’s wife, and the rapid beating of two hearts. Satisfied for the time being Micah returned to his seat. “Now that confession time is over…..” He flipped through his notes. “Oh but what’s this? Miss Lily has a secret of her own.” The killer chuckled softly. “Oh Curtis. What poetic justice this is for you. Miss Lily has a man on both sides. Clearly we need to talk about your issues with your sex life. Perhaps a prescription for Viagra will do the trick?” Truman snorted and rolled his eyes. Micah raised a brow at the reaction but before he could say a thing Lily spoke up. “He stopped being interested in me years ago. I’m young, beautiful and I have needs. I want a family and he refuses to give me one. What was I supposed to do?” Seeing an opportunity to add another nail to Curtis’ coffin Micah dropped another bomb on poor unsuspecting Lily.

“Now that we are airing dirty laundry I do have a question for Curtis. Did you lose interest in your wife before, or after you started having sex with your unconscious patients?” As expected Curtis clammed up and refused to say another word but the look on his face told a thousand stories. He was starting to understand that Micah was in control, that he had all the tools he needed to destroy him and it was starting to sink in that he was never going to leave the room alive. Micah sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Too soon then? Let’s go back to my mother.” More silence met his statement. “Curtis you are being extremely difficult here. I’m trying to help you confess your sins. Im sure you wife wants to know why you killed my mother just as much as I do. Why did you do that Curtis?”

While he was waiting for the doctor to answer his very blunt question Micah was distracted by the sound of his wife’s voice filling his mind. I’m in the underground of the hotel having a party with a very special guest. Care to join me?

[Velveteen]

****! No wonder Savannah….or her own insane intuition, whatever the case may be, told her to hurry. He had started the party without her. Who knew what state Truman was in at this point. She needed to get there before it was too late. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the small patch of wilderness that sat over the hotel. Teleport was a usually draining power so she reserved the use of it for emergencies only, which was exactly what this was. The fibres of her very being were ripped apart painlessly, thrust through time and space and knitted back together miles away all within the beat of a hummingbird’s heart. As soon as the ground was solid under her feet she took off running. The stairs were treacherous and the fact that she had to rely on the sluggish movement of the elevator to get her to where she needed to be was a major source of irritation in the moment.

Once the doors were open she detected his nearness immediately and made haste towards the room he had prepared a long while back in preparation of this very moment. The heavy door was thrown open with a crash that reverberated throughout the buried building as everything seemed to happen at once.

“You filthy ******* pig! Is that why your first wife left you? This is how your wrinkly old man *** gets off? YOU PERVERTED ****. I want a divorce! You hear me?”

The first thing she noticed was the woman on the wheel screaming as she struggled against her bindings, truth be told she was hard to miss. That was unexpected. She recognised her from the many news articles as Truman’s wife though she had not expected to see her here. Velveteen’s sudden arrival soon shut her up as the woman stopped to stare. A quizzical look was thrown at her husband then as she continued towards him and an involuntary, deep throaty purr vibrated along her scrawny old man neck as she grew closer, unable to contain her appreciation at his appearance.

And then there was the Doctor whose eyes seemed to be bugging right out of his head. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” His question followed by a frantic struggle that rocked his chair to the point of teetering on two legs, causing Velveteen to stop in her tracks in anticipation of him crashing sideways onto the floor. She was disappointed as the chair and the doctor righted themselves saving him from kissing the ground. “Pity.” She mumbled and before returning her attention to her husband. “You really need to see this.” She said holding out the box, instantly horrified by the bony liver spotted hands that held it. “Oh. Right.” The facade she had been maintaining melted away and she smiled at the side of her own familiar digits and black nails. There was little she could do about the clothes, which now hung oddly from her small frame.

She maintained her hold on her box, forgetting the presence of the other two for now. “There are things you don’t know, and it is worse than you thought.” She cast an accusatory glance towards Truman whose blood had completely drained from his face and left him a sickly shade of green. “You recognise this then?”

The male’s lips moved silently - it seemed as if Dr Truman had decided to try make peace with his maker with a prayer. “This...will tell you everything you need to know.” Her silver gaze leveled on on the violet hues belonging to her husband. “She was protecting you. And he took it all. You have to get it back before you kill him.” She released her hold on the box. It was something he needed to see and read for himself.

Giving her husband a little privacy to explore the boxes contents she wandered over to where to Truman sat amid an arranged semi circle of corpses. It was certainly an interesting display and she cocked a curious brow towards Micah. She was going to have to ask him about this later but right now she had a message to deliver. Taking up a position behind the doctor she leaned down to whisper quietly at his ear….

“Savannah is here. She wants me to tell you that she wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

The curled lip and cynical snort made it obvious that he didn’t believe her, so she continued.

“She also wanted me to tell you that she knows that you spiked her drinks with sleeping pills when she spent the night at your place.” The lip dropped. “She tells me that one night she didn’t actually drink the drink you gave her but tricked you into thinking she had then when you thought she was asleep and left the room...she followed you.” His expression had become one of stone as he sat unmoving. “She watched you disappear into your dear, old, sick mother’s room….” Her voice dropped even lower as she shared the details of what had happened that night. Something that only Savannah could know. By the time Vel was finished the doctor had doubled over and was expelling his dinner, lunch and probably breakfast all over his own feet. Standing, Velveteen offered a smile to someone that only she could see and nodded.

“What was that? What did you say to him? Who the hell are you people??”

It seemed that Mrs Truman had found her voice again and Velveteen simply offered the woman a small smile. It didn’t really matter. The woman had already seen too much. There was no way she was leaving here alive. Neither were going anywhere and for now she returned to her husband’s side. He was the host of this….party. She was simply here to enjoy the festivities.