Marston told the kids he would give them a ride back into town and tried to look sincere and harmless, but he was already plotting where he could take them.

He looked at his watch and then asked the kids if they could excuse him a moment while he cleared out the back seat, then headed for the car.

Opening the driver’s side door, Marston grabbed some of the empty snack wrappers and other debris and crammed it into a partially filled garbage bag that had been on the floor board.

Carrying the bag, he moved to the back and opened up the trunk, tossed the plastic bag in then opened the duffel bag and got the killing knife and slipped it into the custom sheath he had crafted from an old leather jacket he had taken off of one of his victims.

Slamming the trunk, he walked back towards the kids and told them to go ahead and get in the car, he would take them back to town.

Over two hours later he stood, recharged, and stared with a sense of accomplishment at all that was left of those two kids…

Which was to say, not much.

He was so charged he decided that just this once he wasn’t going to try to hide his handiwork, it needed to be appreciated…

After all, he had gone to such pains to make sure that the “switches” he had made in both of the bodies looked somewhat natural when he had super glued the part into their new places.

All at once he grinned…the boy had actually turned out to be little more than a wuss, and it was only appropriate that his new “equipment” matched his true nature…while the same could be said for what was left of the girl…after all, she HAD been the one with the most balls!

But he had one more teensy weensy detail to take care of before he could head back to the motel…his signature.

Reached down and pulling the knife once more from the sheath, he walked up to the trees to which the two bodies were tied, and after cutting away some of the bark so that the mark would show, he gouged his signature symbol into the trees.

After replacing the knife, he gave the two bodies a mocking salute and then returned to his car. About two hours later he was back at the motel, cleaned up and gathering his things.

He decided to hit the smaller of the two convenience store, as he was now down to only a couple of dollars, then he figured he would find somewhere to lie low for a few days.

But that act of vanity he had allowed himself had cost him…

Advertisements

About MARANTHA DREAMWEAVER JENELLE

WRITER'S USE WORDS TO PAINT PICTURES ON THE CANVASES OF THEIR READER'S MINDS. marantha d. jenelle/aka 'maradjen'

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s