The blows barely crisscrossed Lucy's throat, but they cut her inches deep.
She dropped to her bony knees, both hands clutching her neck as if she were strangling herself. And then she saw who it was, and her blue eyes filled with complete shock and pain and what seemed to be terrible disappointment.
'Geoffrey,' she managed in a gurgling voice, as blood bubbled from her open mouth.
Her last word on earth. His name.
Beautiful for Shafer to hear, recognition that he craved, revenge against all of them. He turned away, forced himself to, before he did the twins as well.
He was never seen again in Chelsea, but everyone would remember him for as long as they lived.
God, would they remember.
That tall, bald monster.
The one in all-black clothes, the inhuman freak.
The heartless killer who had committed so many awful murders that even he had lost count.
Geoffrey Shafer.
Death.
The End
