No warmth from the thin winter sun had managed to penetrate the icy coldness of the room, the child sat, huddled in one corner, shivering, willing the shadowy dimness to conceal her. She held her breath as the man stood motionless, listening for what seemed like an eternity before he turned and strode impatiently away.

He quivered in his boots as he made his way to the living room, the chain in his hands rattled when he clenched his fist to stop the shakes. His victim laid splayed on a metal chair, her face had lost its beauty, twisted and blackened by his torturing - a new means of leaving the world so much that he was sure she wouldn't miss it. He sat and stretched his body on the couch, head back, he closed his eyes. Images of what had happened played in his mind. He smiled.
Maryln was a sweet and lovely girl....