Chapter 10

Pay attention to the activities that lay ahead, trolls; your days are numbered, trolls. I love my knife; it's my only friend. My friend does its job so skillfully that I find it has a mind of its own. But wait, trolls, more will happen when my friend finds its way to your throats. Again and again my friend will find its way. I love my knife; it's my only friend.

I am home again and a skank wench, troll has found her way into my domain. This is unsettling and will be dealt with soon enough. However, to the refrigerator I go to get another taste of my friend's lovely deeds. I must remember to heat up this blood. It tastes better with a little warmth.

The troll speaks to me out of turn.

"Uh dearie, this place looks like it could use some sprucing up. Maybe you could clean off the table and chairs so that I have a place to sit. My legs hurt so, my adopted son. And, what is that you are drinking? Is that blood?"

"Shut up, bitch! You've come into my friends sanctuary. You will leave it just as it is because my friend likes it. If you change anything then my friend will find its way into your neck, cunt. And, yes, this is blood. Do you want my friend to drain yours as well."

Rowena became incredulous at her adopted son's attitude. She chanted a few choice words, the door slammed behind them, and suddenly her son found himself pinned on the wall, four feet off of the floor with both arms spread wide against the torn wallpaper and chipped sheetrock. Rowena walked up to her son and took away his friend.

"You fucking, bitch, cunt..." Another few choice words from Rowena and he found himself without lips. His mouth was completely fused shut.

"Dearie, now that I have your fullest attention, you would not be able to drink my blood. It would instantly kill you. We have a job to do in town. Do you remember what I promised you? Well, you have not kept up your side of the bargain. Sure, I have let you run amuck and destroy whatever captures your eyes, but we must get back to the task at hand. If I let you down off the wall, are you going to behave and keep your damn mouth shut? If not, then you and the wall become a permanent fixture. Do you understand me?"

Struggling the entire time Rowena was speaking, he nodded, and she recanted everything she had said and he returned to the floor standing straight and tall.

"Where is my only friend? I love my only friend. Give him back to me, slut!"

The wall cracked as Rowena slighted her arm and thrust him even farther into it, harder than the first time. She then whipped her head to the right side and he dropped onto piles of rotting garbage left on the floor. He stood up, shook a little, then slumped into the cockroach-filled couch. Rowena whisked her arm and a section of the room suddenly became immaculate.

"Well, now, that is better; I am beginning to feel so much more at home."

NKNKNKNKNKNKNKNK

"Detective Parker, have you gotten anything more from the coroner about the last two victims found behind the museum?" I asked.

"Well, LT, other than what we have been hearing about the other murders, this killer is obviously escalating."

"Sure, he left the bloody scribe BEWARE, I AM NOW HERE and drained the blood from their necks, but the actual cause of death for the Asian female was strangling."

"Parker, are you sure we are talking about the same killer?"

"LT, yes, we certainly are. The male victim was killed first with a stab to the stomach and the female was strangled. And, then the blood-letting began. And, from the amount of blood left at the scene, the killer took two pints with him. The scribe written in blood between them, was written with a mixture of the two victims bloods."

"Parker, what else do we know?" piped in Captain Hal.

"Well, we did get video from across the street, but the image is grainy and the light was too poor to get an exact image of the killer. And, the killer used gloves; there are no fingerprints." Parker answered.

"Well, team, keep working on it." I left the room to get a drink of coffee when I received an odd phone call.

"Yes, is this the lieutenant in charge?" asked the male voice.

"Yes, I am Lieutenant Mike Harrow, the police office in charge of the case. How may I help you?"

"I think that I can help you, Lt." came a quizzical answer. "My name is Bobby Singer. There are two young gentlemen in Las Vegas that can definitely help you. I am with them now if we can meet somewhere public but with a little bit of privacy, please."

"What kind of help are you offering?"

"Some additional help strictly off the radar, if you know what I mean."

"Sure do understand. We can meet downtown at the 4 Queens. It's on the Fremont Experience. Will an hour do?"

"We'll find it and be there." Bobby responded.