Journals of a Psychopath



Oh dear poor Lady Flarice.

The Farmstead

Elaina wanted us to call the cops, but if Rheanna found out, they were involved she could flee to another state.
      “Rheanna will come back soon,” Caldwell said.
Filling our glasses and we drank to the safe return of Jolenson. Elaina cried and wrung her hands she was so distraught I considered dialing a doctor.
      “Do not worry I will find them.”
      “It will be difficult.”
      “Yes, but not too hard.”
      “Do you really think I will get my baby back?”
      “Of course Rheanna is not very clever she will trip up. I will move through hell and high water to bring our girl back to you.”

The Isolation Chamber

     “You will witness the surrender of Alexia's body to the Purifiers and the Archangel,” I said to Lady Flarice.
Extending his massive hand, Smithson was charmed, when Alexia seized it, and hoisting Alexia to her feet Smithson glowered at her hair.
      “Your hair needs tidying.”
He brandished the pointed scissors. Pressing Alexia down on the chair, she angled her body in an effort to avoid the cutters wielded above her head.
      “It has taken a long time to grow.”
Grooming Alexia's hair and he primed it laboriously Smithson had learned the importance of the preparation to the tresses before the sacrifice. It was necessary to tether her to the seat Alexia’s movements were too severe. Lumbering to the chamber Lady Flarice was subdued.
      “You must watch,” Smithson said.
Bringing her back and she fought in Smithson’s limbs I noted his manhood was not engorged. Smithson and I danced as if in orbit. Fettering the Lady Flarice to the chair near to Alexia and she scowled when I handcuffed the women together. Whispering something to the Lady Flarice and Alexia appeared alarmed.

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