Arlene knew the look in the man's eyes all too well. She didn't know who he was to the woman she'd taken and didn't care all that much in the end. The blonde had said that people would come for her and that Arlene would be sorry and perhaps she was right in a way.
The woman who considered herself more of an artist than a serial killer knew that she wasn't long for this world. There was no fear, and perhaps there was even resignation. And still that hot rage seethed just under the surface. She looked up at the gun pointed at her head and met the eyes of the man holding the gun.
"Men. You're always artless, unsubtle bastards. None of you could appreciate my good work."