Where She’ll Never Be Found – I

It took Zebra a week to notice Katters was missing.

Well, no. He noticed immediately, or near enough. It was odd, that she didn’t come home that first night, that her bed remained empty clear through to the following morning. Odd that she skipped work the next day, and the day after, and the day after. Odd that she didn’t take her turns in the basement.

But it didn’t sink in that she was gone gone, not until a week had passed.

It took another week for him to decide to do anything about it.
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Russian Roulette

Content Warnings: Torture, blood.
This story is set in 2011.

 

“Kaa-atters!”

Zebra’s voice carried, sing-song, through the house, and Katters considered jumping out a window.

Zebra had been bored, lately, and he acted that frustration out in ways that usually ended poorly for her. Whatever he had cooking this time, she wanted no part of it — but before she could even leave her bed, he was at the door.

“There you are.”

“I’m reading.” She held her book up before obstinately settling herself against the headboard.

He walked into the room with the confidence of a pick-up artist on a bus and sat himself on the end of the bed. He had a plastic bag with him, and he let that hang between his knees.

“I want to play a game,” he said, cheerfully.
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