She never knew what lie beneath her bed as she slept.
Truth is, her worst nightmare had become real. A man . . . a devil-like creature that bore the mark of the beast . . . lying in wait for her underneath the mattress. But not just any man. A man who hungered for skin, for the raw flesh underneath it. For the taste of human meat.
He recalls all those days and nights lying on his back on a hard bunk inside a prison cell, staring at the faces of two little girls. Molly and Rebecca Underhill. They were his lover’s adopted daughters and how he so wanted to become a part of them. He wanted to dance with them, sing with them.
Ring around the Rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall downnnnnnnnnnnnnn . . .
He wanted to touch them, feel them, get inside their skin, press
