The Admirer: The Doll Collector Sequel

Chapter 2: Kristopher

The chain rattled against the hardwood floor as she moved around in her space. It scraped against my thoughts that she was scratching my floor.

The audacity of some people.

The lights had been turned out two hours ago, so she should have been asleep.

God, she was worse than the cat. At least she behaved when I went to my bedroom.

Chain links rattled against the floor once again, prompting me to roll out of bed and shuffle to the doll room.

Fine, I guess if she wasn't going to sleep, then neither was I. 

I opened the door, standing against the sill as I slid the sconce dimmer up just a smidge.

Her eyes were blazing in the low light, but there was no anger. She held my gaze for several seconds, having blinked only once. The chain was resting against the mattress with the U-lock still securely wrapped around the bedpost and her ankle. I closed the door behind me and walked to the center of the room.

She casually shifted her stare to my new position first. The chain twinkled as she then also moved to face me. Her legs were crossed over in a tight manner, meaning she had to use the bathroom. I sighed and grabbed the key that I kept around my neck. She rubbed her ankle before following me to the bathroom after I set her free.

I stood by the door allowing her to conduct her business unwatched.

Not that I wanted to watch.

I was a psycho to some, but there was a limit.

Besides, God knew women liked their privacy.

After a few seconds, a bad word flitted through the door. I beat a knuckle against it, asking her what was wrong. She opened up just a crack, but I could see the embarrassment burning into her face anyway.

She cleared her throat and quietly whispered that she was in need of a particular product, of a particular brand, and she needed them particularly now.

Excuse me?

Did I have errand boy stamped on my forehead?

She sharpened her look, inspiring me to roll my eyes and give in. I asked her to wait there, then brought back a pen and pad for her to write down a list of what she needed.

In the six months that she had been here, this had never been a problem.

I almost couldn't believe that I was letting her give me a list.

She slipped the pad back to me and walked back to the doll room where I reattached her shackle. Eloise lifted her head from the sofa as I crossed through the living room to grab my coat and car keys.

Women, always peeing or bleeding, or shooting out a baby.

This was why I preferred the dolls over the live ones.

It was close to midnight, and the lights in many of my neighbors' homes were still on. The frigid night air was brisk against my exposed skin.

It reminded me of when I'd take my walks in the woods after a kill. Six months had passed since I had focused on a new target, and had spent that time trying to keep my identity hidden, and Maria's life a secret.

There was so much speculation out there because her bloodied mannequin hadn't been found yet. Obviously I could not drain her or it would ruin my 6 months of work. Still, I had to do something to throw them off the trail or conclude that she was dead. Perhaps if I collected enough blood over several weeks and... well, she was on her period. Maybe I could - ugh no that was so unsanitary and disgusting.