Disclaimer: See chapter one.

A/N: Another increadibly short chapter, I know, but the next one will be longer, promise. Thanks to chuffy-barmed-oc for all the work-in-progress assitance :)


Stubby, smudged fingers –nails bitten to the quick and crusted with blood—stroked the lace trim of a pink silk thong. A male tenor rose softly in a chilling, unmelodic hum. Lifting the garment to his face he inhaled deeply, brushing the smooth, cool fabric against parched lips. Cracked hands carefully folded the bloody piece and slipped it into a padded envelope.
Every musician left his mark on a concerto—a minor twist here, a colored lilt there, just as every artist signed his canvass. It was time for credit to be paid where credit was due.