The bar was quiet...but that's what happens when everyone there is dead. I had just snapped the last man's neck and sat on the barstool, staring at the bodies. My mind danced with the different ways to position them. Different ways to keep them frozen in time. I sipped on the glass of black vodka as I painted a picture in my head. The door opened softly and I looked up, watching the familiar mop of messy black hair finally looked up.

I smiled at Damian's shock before looking back at the bodies, They will make for perfect dolls in 12 hours.