Jeremiah Bolden and Asa Denton sat next to each other on the worn sofa; their knob knees touching slightly in an unspoken show of solidarity. They had come to learn that small talk on evenings such as this was futile. Evenings like this were a waiting game.

Running his thumb along the inside of his britches, Asa shifted uncomfortably as his stomach whimpered its disapproval. "Lansake Jeremiah, how long you reckon this gonna take. I ain't hardly had enough to fill a rabbit."

Jeremiah regarded his normally amiable companion for a moment before shaking his head. "You'd be a dern fool to leave now. You know the rules."

"Yeah I know." It had been the same every night for the past two weeks. They'd find the girl and then they'd dispose of her. In a way, it was an honor being asked to aid Brother Justin. Asa could remember vividly how proud he had been when word had come that Brother Justin had requested him specially. Pride soon turned to disgust as he realized what his mission would entail. It wasn't as if Asa were some meek, lily livered nancy boy. Years of working on a chain gang had provided Asa with a tough hide; or so he had thought. But there was something about seeing the wanton faces of those girls who just hours before had been filled with such life. Stretching his arms behind him, he caught a glance of Jeremiah and wondered not for the first time whether he was as troubled by their assignment as he.

It had been bad enough in the beginning when only one rule had been issued: Choose no one who will be missed. But now it was getting harder with this last assignment virtually impossible. The edict had been clear. This time he wanted a redhead. But it couldn't just be any redhead. No, it had to be dark and cast more copper than orange. Asa almost had to chuckle as he remembered Jeremiah's confused expression as he had blurted out "Where the hell we gonna find someone like that?" Yet, all humor had evaporated quickly as Asa's mind made an involuntary connection. He wanted someone who looked like Miss Iris. Leaning back further into the couch, Asa was just about to give voice to his concerns when a horrifying shriek of terror sliced through the silence.

Turning toward his companion, Jeremiah offered a feeble smile."Guess you're in luck, Asa. Sounds like they'll be finishing up directly."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With a final thrust, Justin Crowe watched as the eyes of the woman beneath him clouded over in unmistaken madness. He rolled off her silently grabbing at his robe. Without a backward glance, he plodded down the hall to the bathroom in a calculated rhythm that had become ritual. Entering the small bathroom, he turned to bolt the lock into place exhaling deeply as it clicked in submission. The sound was just loud enough to echo downstairs where he knew the men would hear. This was their unspoken signal.

Turning the shower knob as far left as it could go, he waited until the room filled with steam. Slipping off his robe, Justin stepped gingerly into the shower steeling himself against the scolding surge of water. With one hand braced against the shower wall, he leaned forward letting the water cascade over top him creating a veil from the world.

It should have worked! The guards had chosen well. He hadn't expected an exact match for perfection could never be duplicated. But her auburn hair was a close enough equivalent when viewed in the dark of night and she'd been of the right size. He had even dressed her and allowed her to use some of the lavender water still residing in the chipped perfume bottle; the very bottle he had given I her years before. Yes, it should have worked. But it hadn't.

She had moaned whenshe would have whimpered, had gasped whenshe would have cried out. There had been other less substantial differences as well. A touch too light. A disjointed cadence in the way their bodies met, never quite melding to the oneness he so desired. Justin had clenched his eyes tight in the hopes that the smell ofher perfume mixed with the feel of her slip beneath him might give him the release he so desired. It had been building for days. This sense of loss and frustration that had at its core a primal longing. A longing for her.

Turning abruptly, Justin let the scolding water singe his skin. He steeled himself with a deep breathe as he closed his eyes and visualized the water streaming down his back; pouring into the crevices of each tree branch marking them with pinkened stains. He recognized, of course, that it was his own fault. There would never be any way to duplicate what he had with her.

But he had to try. Those first nights he had been so bereft with grief that he had toyed with the notion of ending his own life. The thought of freeing himself from the shackles of this world still appealed but he could not risk a state of purgatory that did not include her. "In my house there are many kingdoms" so said the good book. He would not risk entering his own dark kingdom without her. A temporary life without her was bearable. An eternity separated from her was not.

So Justin Crowe had embarked on a mission to find relief. The first few girls he had found eager and far too docile for his taste. Yet, he had tried to envision her instead of them always with dire results. Try as he might, they would ultimately jolt him back to a reality where he was alone. And for that they each had been punished into a shadowy madness as black as his world had become.

He recognized that his outburst tonight had been the most violent but passed that off as an unavoidable side effect of his mission. The scent of lavender had wafted through the air carrying him back to their first time. So lost in his memory was he that the waif's heartbreaking cries beneath him had jolted him from his nirvana into an unpleasant present. All the feelings of loss came flooding back to him as did his rage at not having been able to save the one person he cherished above all others. It was the girl's own fault really. If she had just remained mute, he would never have harmed her so.

Cupping his hands to catch a stream of water, Justin watched as it overflowed over and through his fingers before splashing it onto his face. It stung but it was a necessary part of the ritual. Justin grabbed for the bristle brush and began the arduous task of scrubbing away every last vestige of the girl. He scoured his body to the point where his pale skin had turned red, always red, and he reached for the towel. Satisfied that no trace of the girl lingered, he began his most treasured part of the ritual.

Walking slowly down the hall he bypassed his room noting from the corner of his eye that it was empty. He made a quick mental note to compliment the men on their efficiency this evening. Approaching the door, Justin felt the same shiver of anticipation that always accompanied this action every night. He opened the door and walked inside, stopping only to lock the door behind him. Brushing aside all the painful memories this same locked door had caused him, Justin walked to the dresser and retrieved the necklace. Slipping it over his head, he took a moment to enjoy the feel of its weight upon his skin. Where only ink once marked his inherited destiny, her necklace now marked his chosen one. Justin removed his robe and slid, naked, between the covers.

He had refused to let her room be cleaned for fear that the last remnants of her would be lost to him forever. The smell of lavender upon her sheets had grown faint but if he concentrated hard enough, Justin could still detect the muted sweetness of her hair where it had once laid upon the pillow. Closing his eyes, Justin waited for sleep to come and take him to a world where Irina awaited. A few minutes later, he was granted entry to that world. And, for a few fleeting moments, Justin Crowe was at peace.