The thing reached inside of its belt, and placed a series of pictures in her hand. It did not draw away from her, but remained close… as two lovers under moonlight.
The images described in grim detail the bizarre, ritualistic killings… the lack of physical evidence in a diabolical bloodbath. The broken bodies… women… children…
The body count had reached one hundred dead this very night. The noose had tightened around the murderer’s neck, but the prospect of the killer learning of the identity of the beast which hunted “him…”
Again, the cowled demon reverted to their silent, private language.
“With your help… it ends.”
Gloved fingers pressed against the top of her palms, the thing in the costume ignoring the electricity roaring through its body when touching her.
“It’s not safe on the streets,” the beast whispered, the low hiss no longer intimidating.