Miss Polly had a Dolly (Emma Frost #2) by Willow Rose Page A

about
pretty little girls. He clenched the knife in his pocket with his other hand
and fought the desire to kill her right there.
    Then he turned around and made himself disappear
between a row of houses.
     

Chapter 24
April 2013
    Patrick felt
like Zorro or maybe Batman in his cape and disguise as
he rushed through town to get away from people, to get away from the screaming
fans. He didn't run since that would make him look suspicious, but he
speed-walked and avoided people by crossing the street whenever he saw someone.
Soon the streets were empty and he was all alone.
    Patrick breathed in and enjoyed the silence for
a second. Usually he wasn't very fond of silence, or being alone for that
matter since it always gave him room to think too much, and Patrick did not
like to think. He liked to be on the go, always going somewhere, always the
center of the action and attention. But when he turned into his alter ego at
night and went out to do his thing, then he enjoyed being left alone, then he
enjoyed the silence surrounding him.
    Because he knew the silence would soon be broken
by the sound of him taking yet another life.
    Patrick spotted a small light coming from a
kiosk on the corner of a building. The sign outside stated that it was open
till ten pm. It was five to now.
    "Perfect timing," Patrick mumbled and
peeked in through the glass door. A young girl was standing behind the counter,
reading in a magazine, constantly looking at her watch, probably anxious to go
home. She was perfect. No more than fifteen, pretty with long hair.
    "Exquisite," Patrick told himself.
"Just the way you prefer them: Young, beautiful, and innocent."
    He braced himself for what was about to happen
next, felt the thrilling rush in his stomach, the chill on his spine.  He
put his gloved hand on the door handle and opened the door. The small bell
above it rang and the girl looked up from her magazine. As her eyes met his,
she froze.
    "Oh my god," she exclaimed. She looked
down at the cover of her magazine where Patrick's eyes looked back at her.
"You're… You're…"
    Patrick smiled mischievously. "Indeed I
am."
    The girl blushed. "Wow. And you're in my shop?"
    "So it appears," Patrick answered and
walked closer.
    "Can I have your autograph?" The girl
giggled and Patrick's blood froze at the sound.
    Then he pulled out his famous smile. "Well,
of course!"
    Her eyes became wide and she dove down under the
counter to find a notepad. When she lifted her head again she was holding the
pad and a pen. She handed it towards him. "Here. If you could just sign
here…"
    Patrick grabbed it and pretended he was about to
sign it when he paused and looked up. "Now what am I thinking?" he
said.
    The girl looked confused at him.
    "A pretty girl like you should have a
special autograph, shouldn't she?"
    The girl's eyes lit up. "A special
one?"
    "Yes. Of course. All the girls want me to
sign their arm or some even on their breasts—those are the NAUGHTY
ones."
    Patrick had screamed the word out and the girl
jumped at the sound. Patrick laughed out loud manically. He loved this moment.
"I bet you're feeling just a little bit afraid now, aren't you? Because I
yelled like THIS!"
    The girl jumped again. Then nodded.
    "But you still refuse to believe that
feeling, don't you? You're fighting it inside of you. Because you are after all
standing in front of a real CELEBRITY, aren't you? And they're not dangerous?
They don't mean any harm? They never hurt anyone, especially not a NICE and
PRETTY girl like you."
    Patrick ended his sentence with his famous
smile. The girl stared at him and he could almost hear how her many thoughts
were racing through her mind.
    "So now I give you my special autograph,
right?"
    The girl had backed up and was now standing with
her back against the row of cigarettes behind her. "I…I'm not…"
    "SURE YOU ARE!" Patrick leaned over
the counter. "You want this. You want my autograph on your body." He
pulled out his knife. The girl gasped. He