Die Young, Leave a Pretty Corpse

He waited at the foot of her bed as she shut her eyes, and then a few moments longer. He snarled at how cavalier she was about disposing of his child without so much as a word to him for the better half of a decade. She had clearly put the event behind her but he was not as fortunate as she was in having seven years to come to grips with her decision. He had been given all of an hour to process the loss. Had it been any other day and he might have reached the logical viewpoint that Dorcas was coming from, but this was not a day for thinking. He had been enraged when he left his home, furious and even more excited when he murdered that Order bitch, and far too preoccupied when he mounted his mistress and stopped her heart. Rodolphus waited a moment in the dark bedroom and then turned and headed into the en suite.

The shower spray was warm as it fell over him. Rodolphus stood there, his palms pressed against shower wall and his body leaning forward to allow the water to rain over his head and down his back. He stayed there until the water ran cold and his temper cooled. Pulling one of the luxurious towels he had bought to replace Dorcas’ cheap ones from the bar, Rodolphus stepped from the shower and dried himself. He flung the damp towel on the floor as he exited. There was a few hours of night left before the sun rose, and against his better judgement Rodolphus laid alongside Dorcas on the bed and shut his eyes.