Walter rolled off the dank mattress and stretched, fully extending his arms up to the ceiling and delighting in the crack of the vertebrae in his spine. He reached over, carefully avoiding the circle of blood spreading from the gaping wound on his victim’s neck, and grabbed his boxers from the opposite side of the bed. The woman wasn’t dead yet, but with how quickly she was bleeding out she wouldn’t last much longer. Without a second glance, he began the search for his pants, which were eluding him for the moment. He knew they came off not too long after he and
his victim had made it through the door, just after he’d discovered what Erith had instinctively known about the woman’s lack of underwear. At that particular moment, he was still riding the high from what ended up being the perfect combination of sex and sustenance he’d managed to accomplish that evening and wasn’t overly concerned about the disappearance of his pants. A few seconds later, he heard approaching footfalls and tensed, only to laugh when he saw Erith’s face pressed against the window as she tried to see in through the spaces between the curtains.
“Oi, Walter!” Her face lit up with a huge smile that exposed her deadly, pointed teeth. She tapped the window with one long, bloodstained finger. “There you are!”
He grinned back and moved to open the door, sliding the chain lock out of position. “Here I am.”
“I could have saved myself at least half an hour if I could ever remember the name of this place.”
“Yeah, I dunno; I just think of it as the turquoise one.” Walter paused and looked around. “Can you help me find my pants? I’ve been tryin’ to find them for them for ages now and must be looking right past them.”
“You’re wearing them.”
“What? No… I mean my American pants.”
“Technically all your pants are American.”
“The outer pants, Erith.”
“You mean those?” she asked, pointing at a pant leg just poking out from under the rickety table in the corner.
“Yes, thank you!”
“Not that you need them. One of these days you really need to fuck me up like you do your victims.”
“I thought you said we were done havin’ this discussion.”
“Did I? I lied. Anyway, are you going to finish that?”
Walter stared at his friend blankly for a few seconds before he realized what she was talking about, and shrugged. “Go ahead. I mean… Like, there’s not a lot left but you’re welcome to it if you really want.”
“Fantastic. I may not have gotten to play with her, but her hair will make an excellent wig,” she replied, making quick work of pulling the corpse’s hair back into a ponytail quickly cutting it off. “So, are we burying this one?”
“Nah. The night’s still young, and you spent so much time on my eye makeup…”
“If you ever sat still, it wouldn’t take so long! Anyway, most of it’s gone at this point. Plus, the sky’s already beginning to lighten so let’s just head out.”
“Oh. Yeah. Probably a good idea.”
“I totally dig these tattoos! I should go find my filet knife–”
“You just said we had to leave!”
“What? Oh. Right, you’re right. Oh well.”
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