"I'm sure you'll think of a way to pay me back," Meg smirked with an unfamiliar male mouth, then, without wasting any more time, the man, blood mostly hidden in the folds of his dirty coat, turned to leave.

Meg would dump him in an alley, a frequent site of such crimes, stripped clean of all evidence. The man had no friends, and on his journey, he attracted no attention from nosy witnesses. It was all kind of boring, if you asked Meg.

In less than an hour, black smoke poured from the vent in Ilithyia's bedroom and streamed into the mouth of the body of that poor girl from Cheboygan.

Meg's black eyes sprang open.