Chapter 67: Murder of the 15th XII
The next day
8 PM, Anna’s Mansion
Sam lay on the bed that evening, resting. Her eyes started to close as she drifted to dreamland.
Sight, smell, feel, hearing. That’s how senses one by one disappear in the process of death.
The hearing was always last to go.
And while her sight and motor functions disappeared, she could still feel him. Hear him hover and move around her.
Her eyes were wide open, but all she could see was darkness. She could feel his breath fan against her face, the smell of his breath. The touch of his fingers against her cheeks, her neck.
He was caressing her. Why? she wondered.
"Such, such perfection. Why’d you come, why’d you come so early?" His voice echoed in her head, but she couldn’t answer.
"You’re not supposed to be here, not supposed to be here." He echoed himself, pacing beside the tub as it filled with cold water.
He leaned closer to her, touching her cheek softly with the back of his hand.
"So perfect. So perfect." He said.