Lotion
Victoria P.

Cool lotion glides over pale, silky skin. It soothes her. She stretches one leg out and rubs until the slickness is gone.

She does the same to her other leg, fascinated at how the lotion absorbs into her skin, glistening in the candlelight.

Dreg has brought her another victim. She can feel his dread as she takes her time, inhaling the sweet floral fragrance of the lotion mingled with the musk of the candles and the stink of his fear.

This is what it means to be alive, Glory thinks, and then kills the man with her juniper-scented hands.

Glory. Alive. Lotion.