
In a dazed fog, I turned away from the window and entered my house. It was surreal too see them, this incomprehensible scene, in such a familiar scene.
One question pounded through my scattered thoughts.
Why?Kim turned toward me. Her face was the mask of a predator. My wife’s blood was on her lips and chin. She turned Susan with her, her head pulled back.
I didn’t move, or speak. In a sane world, Kim would let Susan go. The madness would be over.
She held my gaze, then sank her nails into Susan’s breast and slowly dragged down.
Susan screamed as a nail sliced through her nipple.
“He’s home,” Kim purred to her.