The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER TEN

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There were two beds in the room and on each lay one of the women sprawled out like a fish ready to be scaled. Their clothes were torn and tattered as they hung from their flesh.

Each woman had a very deep wound on her neck with faint smears of blood, which formed into thin lines that meandered down their torsos and the remnants of their clothing and onto the spread of each bed.

One would expect that with such terrible wounds the blood would be more abundant. And yet now it appeared to be no more than mere stains. Of course the vast majority of it had been consumed by the two villains who had cut short the women's lives. Their faces were twisted up in terror and their eyes were exposed white the pupils having retracted in death.

The two killers stood there at the foot of each bed and observed their handiwork. The evil pale man turned toward his slave who stood motionless as if hypnotized by the imagery.

"It was good wasn't it?" he asked the young man who had a smile upon his face. It seemed that the beast was also smiling behind the dark glasses, which he was wearing even in the dim light of the shabby room.

The young man began to shake his head slowly but with each passing moment the movement became more rapid as if his head was a mechanical device fueled by the sight of death.

"Yes...yes it was wonderful, so wonderful!" he said with a grin that could only be described as that of a mad man.

Both Clay and the pale man were nude. They had disrobed after first knocking the women near unconscious. They had not done this out of some human perversity or a desire to sexually 

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ravage the bodies, indeed the monster's lack of genitalia would put the lie to that charge and as far as Clay was concerned this was the most remote thought in his mind. They had done so in order not to get blood all over their attire.

The pale man was immaculate now even after his feeding. Clay however had impressions of blood from his waist to his head due his eagerness at attacking his victim's wound.

Studying him more closely the pale man said. "Go and clean the blood off of yourself. You should learn some self restraint son." he was using the voice of Clay's mother and for a moment he was reminded of her a long time ago when she used to scold him for getting so dirty at playtime.

"Yes mother." he said obediently. Turning from the sight of the beast Clay went into the restroom where he drew back the curtain to the shower and climbed in. He twisted the knobs of hot and cold water adjusting them to just the right degree as the water poured over his feet.

Once it was set on a proper temperature he pulled the latch, which forced the water to start coming from the overhead shower faucet. He now tore open the paper of a small bar of soap in the side dish and began to lather up his face and body. He did so for several minutes and then rinsed himself. 

 When he was done he shut off the water and pulled back the shower curtain. He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist as he left the tub. Using another towel he scrubbed his wet hair until it was almost dry. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror and when he was done he slowly, reluctantly looked at his own reflection.

He was horrified by what he saw. He was ghastly looking. His pallor was so very white that he was terrified by the sight of himself. He turned from the image and went back into the bedroom area where the pale man now stood fully clothed. He wanted to ask why he'd grown so pale, but his fear would not allow it.

In the next room Luther Newton sat on the bed in total silence. He sat deep in thought contemplating anew what he had heard through the wall. The soft sweet agony the two women had suffered swirled in his mind and caused him to have an erection.Who was this man with the long white hair and skin to match with a face that was long and angular?