genevieve moore — ( mvstangsally )
Out of instinct she lifts her chin to avoid the steel millimeters from her flesh. Any other day this would be foreplay to the girl but she’s got way too many clothes on. Therefore, Gen smiles at them through gritting teeth and pursed lips.
Just six months prior, Genevieve found herself on this block. In this very room. Dressed in all black, silent and unseen in the shadows. Robert was partners for a brief time with the man of the house. He got caught, narked on good ol’ Robert and cost him a pretty penny to swipe his record with the crooked lawyers and district attorneys.
See, there’s a code. Ya get caught, ya keep ya mouth shut. Go against that code and you end up six feet under. Anyone lucky enough to be around you at the time will be in the grave beside you.
The whole family was home, husband, wife, teenage son. Gen saved the husband for last. One final torture for him to witness before the message was received. She didn’t get the safe that night, had to make it look like a murder suicide and anything amiss would raise suspicion.
Of course, she was this lucky. The one night she finally schleps back out to the suburbs is when this Ghost is passing through. She lets out a sigh of exasperation. ❛ Upstairs. Master bedroom. There’s a safe left untouched. Wha’s inside? ‘M not sure bu’ must be somethin’ worth killin’ for. ❜ No pun intended.
wherever the girl's chin went, his blade was sure to follow. with devilish grace, the knife glided along the delicate skin with guileless ease and followed her fascinating curve to edge of her jaw. he traced it with the same wily playfulness as if the eight-inch fang was nothing more than a flirtatious finger.
his casual grip betrayed the unfathomable hours over countless years spent practicing. his wrists would cramp and pop at work, even after a night-long soak in epsom. he'd smile through the pain at work, never flinching even when his tendons threatened to burst. but the ghost would not rest until every jab and flick was an act of perfection. the longevity of his hand was a sacrifice the bastard was willing to make if it meant he could outshine the dying swan with his choreography.
and with that taut control, ghostface placed the very tip of the buck on the fullest part of the woman's lips. he tilted his head, the mask twisting at a sickening angle as he considered his next move. the gears of his mind were already churning as she spoke, but there was a deeper game at play here and he'd yet to learn the rules.
not only was he going to get another body for the count, this one was going to have a mystery that would keep his name on the front page for weeks if he played his cards right.
another beauty claimed by the ghost face, but this time she was no staple housewife but a jane doe caught up in bad dealings. he'd of course get all the juicy details out of her before he silenced her for good, grab whatever goodies lurked in the safe, and then scooby-doo his way through the headlines.
the ghost took a careful step back, his knife still trained on the woman. he jerked his head towards the door with a purr.
