One, two, three… He was waiting for the blood. Four, five…A tiny red bead squeezed out, another right behind it, and a string of liquid rubies welled up along the severed edges of flesh. At ten, he wiped away the strand, applied pressure with a cloth napkin from the motel, then sank back on his heels and started the count again. One, two, three…It was taking longer than he’d thought. He should have just killed her first and saved himself all this trouble and mess. Dead women don’t bleed. But they don’t scream, either, and Chevy had been hurting. He needed something to carry him over until Beth. Nine, ten. Wipe.Done.He looked at the photo of the fourth doll in the set, looked at Legs, and decided on one more cut. A tiny blue vein crept from the crease behind her knee, barely visible in the silvery light. He cocked his head—a surgeon, considering—decided on it, then laid the edge of his X-Acto knife flush against her skin. Legs gasped. “Oh, God, no! Not again. I’ll do anything y-you want.”Stupid bitch.
