There was the biggest, blackest, meanest looking motherfucker out in the hall I had ever seen in my life. I had to look UP into the peephole to see hi... head."Who is it?" I asked, like one of the three little pigs."Mister Thompson? May I have a few moments of your time?" came the deep bass rumble I could feel in my bones."What do you want?" I asked. He looked like somebody Vito would send over to collect a bad debt, if Vito was African American. I didn't owe Vito any money, though."I'm with. If she only knew.The picture was of a beautiful redheaded girl who couldn't have been more than twenty years old. She was actually eighteen and she was dead. She wasn't one of his, instead belonging to another of his chosen. She was a victim of a past killer and beyond him in physical form. But her death, her purpose of death was his to study and to alter as he saw fit through his imagination.He imagined his wife tied and tortured as this girl had been. Pictured her raped over and over by a man. More

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