“You finished with Stinky Breath then?” she asked.
“Soon, Stinky Breath will be finished with you,” he mumbled.
“Eh?” She paused to pick her nose. “Anyway I’m hungry!”
“So is Stinky Breath.”
“Well, shut up and cook us some grub then.”
Ebenezer considered chucking Bethany in the cover, roasting her in a bowl for the beast. Instead he decided to remain patient.
Even after centuries of practice, it never grew less unsettling when it happened this way – sloppily. Gorily. Murder had never been his favourite method of disposal.
“What’s this?” he asked impatiently, staring down at the bloodied mess on the floor.
“Oh, good,” remarked a figure concealed by shadows, a familiar glint of malice appearing from the darkness of the room. “You’re here. Finally, I might add.”