He waited for the urge to strike him again, the compulsion to kill that was so overwhelming that it had forced him to take his first life so many year... ago in that other place. She’d been messy, screaming for help. She’d clawed and bit him, fueling his rage. He’d beaten her to death and almost ruined his hands in the process, something he’d never let happen again. Now he had it perfected, his art. His basement was set up just the way he liked it, the room soundproofed so that even from. Getting up, she went over to the coffeemaker to brew a fresh pot. Daryl watched her work knowing that she was using the time to organize her thoughts. It took three minutes to set up the coffeemaker. Turning to face her husband, she said, “I thought I could trust you.”“What do you mean?”“You left last night and didn’t tell me where you were going,” Shirley answered. She felt as if he had betrayed her. He had left and there had been no way for her to re-establish contact. As far as she was. More

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