Exton

Jean-Marc watches as the girls leave the bar. When he left the tavern he walked to a place closer to the campus. Easier prey, and he laughs to himself. All you have to do is wait until they have enough to drink, and they fall for any line and drink anything they are offered. The last proved too weak for my tastes, not even good for a pet...She wont talk though, even if she remembers anything, scared as a rabbit when we left her off in the woods...At least she wasnt dead. Too many dead ones and you have to move....

He had spent the last weeks finding a house and getting things ready. An old crumbling Victorian, and not actually in town, fairly secluded by a large grove of trees and its location. It was perfect Jean-Marc thought when he bought it. The only thing he was interested in was its location and large, deep, brick cellar. He was completely uninterested in the beauty of the once grand old house. It had sat empty for a number of years, and now with the gardens over grown, vines trailing a winding pathway around windows, it looked sad and haunted with memories of happier times. A small round turret graced one side of the house, mostly made of brick, at one time it resembled something from a fairy tale, enchanting children and beckoning them to climb. Now it was crumbling on one side and looked as forlorn as the rest of the house and grounds. Overall, it was a gray and dismal place, lonely and forgotten and perfectly suited to Jean-Marc and his perversions.

Jean-Marc smiles as he contemplates his new cellar. The dark, the brick walls, the dampness and smell of mold and decay, only needing the addition of a couple of cells to make it perfect for his use. He had been to the hardware store last week for a few “supplies” that he had to leave behind at his last location. His two pets were chained in the basement, simple minded creatures that would do his every bidding. They had been with him some time and were as twisted and sick as Jean-Marc was. They knew his every perversion and lived for helping him indulge. Not only in luring women to him, assisting in the torture, they would collect blood if it flowed freely to use on Jean-Marc. It was the only time they were allowed to touch him, when the lust grew too much to be contained and he would permit them to release him of it using the blood. His childhood had been so perverted that any kind of normal relationship or sex was not possible for him. The thought of having sex, actually sharing part of himself physically was repulsive to Jean-Marc, it was something he would never consider. He lived for the fear, the terror that he could create and control. In every woman he saw his mother and wanted to inflict the pain and horror that he had suffered as a child onto them. He smiled grimly when he thought back on the events of this past evening. Alise reminded him in looks of his mother. She had been a beautiful woman, long blonde hair, china doll face. But it hid the evil, perverse woman inside. One who never should have been allowed near children, much less allowed to have one of her own.

As Jean-Marc watches the girls go in and out of the bar, his thoughts drift to Alise, I wonder how long it will take to break her? Make her beg for release from pain... a week? Two? No one will want her when I am done with her. Not even that gargoyle.... Just the thought of Stoney making him seethe with rage.. I should dump her rotting carcass at his feet, that should break him and teach him not to challenge his betters.... and he laughs as a plan begins to form in his mind...

A young woman, with a blonde ponytail walks out of the bar, alone. Jean-Marc watches as she looks up and down the street. Hmmmm, alone and looking for a ride? How splendidly perfect.... He pats his shirt pocket, making sure the filled syringe is still concealed and he approaches the girl.....