The man’s eyes somehow appeared to lock on to Anna, a phenomenon that further contributed to the general malaise experienced. It took all that she had to ignore that tingling that ran down her spine, and not make a run for it. “It’s time,” Marc said.#AmEditing#WritingCommunitypic.twitter.com/PE53xCJ8qy
“…Marc?” Evelyn managed to ask. “What’s left of me,” Marc managed to say, while his lips cracked from the strain. “You need a bit of… fresh air, mon cher,” Evelyn said after regaining a modicum of her composure. “That ran out one-hundred-and-fifty-three-years ago.”#AmEditingpic.twitter.com/ak5FhVIyXU
Eventually, she grew tired of watching Breanna decay. Her body was beginning to cool, and the blood settled. If they delayed much longer, they would forfeit the keys to the Georgian fortress.
“Can’t have that,” Evelyn said. “Can we, ma chère?”
Evelyn slipped away from her partner and off the bed. Breanna’s legs remained momentarily in position but soon flopped onto the bed. She giggled at the sight while sauntering over to the bedroom door.
She opened the door and found the silhouette of her impeccably dressed sire. He turned around, looked Evelyn straight in the eyes, but remained quiet. Despite Evelyn being naked, bloody, covered in someone else’s sweat, and sporting a large purple strap-on, he never made a peep.
“If you actually used that penis of yours, I wouldn’t need toys so much,” Evelyn said.
The tease had no effect, and never would. Yet either would be concerned if the other behaved out of character. Evelyn moved aside, letting Marc into the room to get started.
Marc would drain the body of blood, adding in an anticoagulant to keep the supply viable. Fingerprints would be harvested along with those delicate green eyes. Anything less would deny them access to the Georgian stronghold.
She sat down at the dressing table and stroked the purple appendage. Despite death being an old companion, Evelyn felt discomfort at the idea of witnessing what was about to happen.
“I need to wash and grab a quick bite,” Evelyn said. “Please treat Breanna’s remains with respect.”
Evelyn then walked out of the bedroom, her hips swaying alluringly. All the while, that purple phallus swung in the opposing direction. Marc never turned around to look. After all, there was work to be done.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!