"We've gotten reports of a young boy around 19, Thomas Dormaine, killing people in broad daylight. Kid's got no shame, and no fear it seems."
The officer nodded in agreement.
A young boy in the back of the car, a rookie, piped up. "Hasn't it been said that he serves some... master?"
The officer nodded again. "Kid claims he serves her 'forever and always'," he mocked, adding air quotes, "we're thinking he's got some mental issues, something like that... But if not, and he actually does have someone pulling the strings, we'll need to find them. Snake won't die unless you cut off the head."
The door slammed shut. "Master, I'm home." Thomas Dormaine stumbled through the doorway, his hands coated in a layer of blood, a knife in his grip. "It's done... she's dead, just like you wanted."
A cruel smile. "Very good my servant, very good."
"Are- are you pleased master? Are you pleased with me?" he asked, kneeling at the side of her chair.
A nod. "Yes. You've done well to serve your Master. I shall see to it that you are rewarded."
Sirens wailed outside the Victorian house, the red and blue lights flashed through the windows, casting a dark glow on Thomas. A megaphone clicked on before a loud voice rang out into the night.
"Thomas Dormaine, come out with your hands up!"
The boy looked to his master, not wishing to upset the very person he was about to give his life for. She nodded in acceptance, but whispered a favor into his ear.
The door swung open and he emerged, a blanket in his arms. His eyes held a crazed look, his hair, missing in chunks from his head. He had rotted teeth and destroyed skin, though the body in his arms looked no better. With him, he carried the body of a woman, long since dead. She wore a torn, red dress, with black heels hanging from her skinless feet.
She was dead.
An officer approached the boy, holding his gun to his side. "Who is that?" he asked cautiously. The boy grinned and dropped to his knees, letting the body fall and break apart.
"She is my master... The one I serve, forever and always."