“My friends,” he answered, “I’m so glad you appreciate my
choice.” He pushed her head to the side, opening up her
neck to his assault. He chuckled as he fed.
For the next hour, the three friends took turns, admiring a
particular aspect of Giselle’s body before making it the
sight of the next violation. They fed in sips rather than
gulps so that they might enjoy her to the fullest. But
finally, as her veins were at last emptied, and the eastern
sky began to lighten, they cast her body into a fresh
unmarked grave dug in the garden, alongside all the others,
and retired to sleep away the day. The next evening, when
they awoke, the whole city was a buzz over the
disappearance of the young opera star. Though many
people came forward to tell the police that they distinctly
remember having seen the girl on the previous evening, no
one could remember who she had been with.
“I think that it’s time we thought about moving,” said
Julian. It was early in the evening and the three were just
awakening. It was mid-February, and war across the
continent seemed inevitable. The temperatures, slightly
cooler than usual for that time of year in Madrid, had
dipped into the thirties the last few nights and had
struggled to climb past forty during the day. “It’s not as if
the cold weather bothers me,” he said smiling, “but it does
seem to keep everyone else indoors.”
“True,” replied Nathan, “I have noticed that the avenues
are a bit less crowded these nights.”
“Well,” piped up Elliot, “I have no opinion on the subject
whatsoever. If the two of you would be happier if we were
to move to another locale, then move we shall.”
14