The Marradith Ryder Series Part 47
Syd walked through the house, taking his time.
Jenny, the lady of the house, sat on the couch, staring into space. She couldn’t move. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
It only took a small bit of concentration, to keep her where Syd wanted. One tentacle of control from his mind, and she was caught.
Stuck like an insect floating in amber.
*****
Rich people were all pretentious bastards, but none more so than rich Americans, he thought with a chuckle. Always trying to surpass the Joneses, the Smiths, or whoever else.
The house was lovely. Skylights. Twenty-five foot ceilings. Large frames of tasteful modern art lined the bright, butter cream colored walls. At the top of the stairs, the master bedroom spanned the entire second floor. Ceiling fans spun silently above.
Having satisfied his hunger on the flesh of Jenny’s husband, Syd took the liberty of soothing himself with a long hot shower.
He scrubbed away the blood beneath his nails. He soaped his chest until the skin stung, rubbing away the blood that clung to his chest hair.
Using what he assumed was the husband’s toothbrush, he disposed of any remnants of his meal, brushing scrupulously.
Syd prided himself on cleanliness.
The bedroom boasted his and hers walk in closets. The mans closet had a marble island similar to the kind that many people had in their kitchens. Only there were drawers with jewelry inside of these. Cufflinks. Rings. Atrociously auspicious chains.
What Will would call bling.
Ties were strung to a little automated gadget. With a press of a button ties circled like articles in a dry cleaner. Suits were draped carefully on their hangers and arranged in groups by color: black suits, gray suits, brown.
It took some digging to locate any casual clothing, but he finally found some. Syd paired jeans with s crisp, cotton shirt. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror.
Now, about the woman…..he thought.
When he returned to her, he saw that she’d not moved a muscle from her perch on the couch.
He didn’t need to eat anymore.
Just slashing her throat seemed wasteful. It would just create more cleanup for later.
Her eyes widened. She was terrified. The shallow sound of her breathing in the otherwise silent room echoed.
She was hyperventilating.
Though he considered it, he didn’t think it was a good idea to go back out in the daylight. He didn’t want anyone see him leave.
“My pet,” he said, stroking her cheek. “How shall we fill the hours?”
©2009 Lori Titus
Lori Titus is the Managing Editor for Flashes in the Dark, and Short Story Editor for Sonar4 Ezine. Her work has been included in three anthologies so far. Most recently her stories appeared in Mausoleum Memoirs, and Toe Tags: 21 Spine-Tingling Stories by the Best New Authors in Horror. Meanwhile, she continues to write The Marradith Ryder Series, posted here weekly. For more info, see her blog at:
http://loribeth215.wordpress.com
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October 28th, 2009 at 1:33 pm
Nice tips on decorating. I was thinking of trying some of these ideas and you just inspired me to do so thanks!
June 16th, 2010 at 4:52 pm
Well Syd has got himself in order again and that poor lady.