The disabled girl weighed more than he would have thought. But it wasn’t just the weight – she squirmed around, thrashing in protest all the way from the car to the house. The killer held her tight, desperately fighting to get her inside before the neighbors heard her screeching.
The moment the door shut behind them, he tossed her onto the floor like she was nothing. She landed on the creaky hardwood with a thud, letting out a cry as her elbows made a smashing sound on the floor. The killer took this time to catch his breath, stretching his arms as the feeling in them slowly returned.
“You have to take me back,” the girl said. “Please, just take me—”
“Shut up.”
“I won’t tell anyone what you look like. I swear I won’t.”
“One more word out of you and I’ll cut your throat right now.”
The girl silenced, but it was only an empty threat anyway. He needed to keep her for as long as possible before performing the deed. There was a cycle he had to live by, and upsetting that cycle would only make things more complicated. This meant she had a small chance of surviving until the morning. The only question was, what would he cut from her?
When he felt up to the task, the killer picked her up by her arms and dragged her toward the basement door. Her useless feet slid after her, bumping down each step as he pulled her downstairs. At the bottom was another door, this one locked tight and soundproofed. It opened onto a narrow hallway where three doors stood on either side. He quickly chose one and then dragged her there. By now, she had stopped fighting.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Somewhere you’ll never see daylight again.”
The girl cried into her hands. The killer finished opening the door and took her the last few steps into the cell. It was cold in here – dark and covered in spiders. There was one bucket where she could do her business, but God knew if she was able to in her condition.
“Let me explain something to you,” he said, leaving her in the corner where the bucket was. “This room is soundproofed, so there’s no use screaming. The door is locked, and there are two other doors before you even reach the ground floor, so don’t bother trying to break out. The better you behave, the less painful I’ll make it when I kill you.”
The girl – Jenny, he thought her name was – shook her head, biting back another sob. “What do you want from me? I never did anything to you. I don’t even know you. If you tell me what you want, maybe I can get it for you.”
It was the usual pathetic attempt at disarming him, but the killer wasn’t falling for it. Although it could be helpful to get closer to Logan, he figured this was the best way to hurt the private eye. Nothing killed somebody’s soul faster than losing a loved one. He should know.
“I want nothing from you,” he explained. “You’re alive only for as long as it’ll take for me to harvest something from your body. When that time comes, you’ll know it, so until then, just stay here and shut your pie hole.”
With that, he spun around and locked her in the cell. He only heard her screaming until he shut the door, and then the basement was a tranquil, peaceful place. A place full of victims, where he could come and take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
What else could a man ask for?