Pretty Little Dead Girls Read Online Free PDF

a dumpster behind Safeway.
    Her hands and feet were bound, and her thick black hair had been shaved. Her eyes were missing, and were never found, actually, although the police looked for several years. Beautiful young women need their eyes, that’s just the way of it. But, alas, this was never to be. An empty Mountain Dew can lay atop the body, with DNA on it. The owner of this DNA was hauled in for questioning by a Detective Ian Bridger and was treated rather meanly, when it came right down to it, but eventually he was let go. A man drinking a soda and throwing it away in a dumpster is most likely not a criminal, although his name will be filed away in the department’s files for the future, if it is necessary.
    Chad the Fish Guy hoped with all his might that it would never be necessary, and vowed to be A Very Good Boy from then on, only participating in Good Boy activities. He only kept up this vow for a week or so, but even that is better than nothing.
    Word spread through the market quickly.
    When she heard, Bryony sat down hard.
    “It’s happening again,” she said quietly. Somebody ran to fetch a paper cup full of water.
    “What is happening?” asked Clifford, the old man that worked next to her. His real name was exotic and hard to pronounce, and he didn’t want anybody to really try. He was especially fond of Cheers when he first came to the states and chose to go by Clifford forever more.
    Bryony turned to Clifford and took hold of his withered hands earnestly. He flushed slightly under his leathery skin, but the storm light of the day hid it nicely.
    “Clifford, wherever I go, women get murdered. Little girls. The first crush that I ever had, a beautiful boy on his skateboard, and a man who loved me enough to murder himself instead. It’s as if death is a bolt of lightning, and it’s striking all around me, looking for its target.”
    “Death isn’t a very good shot,” said the round-faced girl, and everybody in the flower section nodded in agreement.
    Bryony sighed. “I don’t know what to do. This always happens. I keep moving and moving, but no matter where I end up—”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Clifford said kindly, patting her hands. “We’ll protect you. We’re not scared of no curse—”
    “It’s not a curse,” said Bryony.
    “—of no magic spell—”
    “I don’t believe in magic,” said Bryony.
    “—of no strange birthright —”
    Bryony didn’t have anything to say to that one, and Clifford smiled and continued. “So don’t be worried for us, and we’ll take care of you. Nobody will have you, our sweet flower girl. Nobody.”
    It was a fine sentiment, and greatly appreciated, even if everybody there knew it was completely untrue. Nobody could protect her, nobody could stop it. For a moment Clifford believed it himself . . . almost. Then his face faded as reality struck, and he was a bent, translucent man. His desire was pure and protective, though, and it made Bryony happy.
    “Thank you, Clifford,” she said, and there were smiles all around.
    Death had not touched her. Not yet.
    “But it will,” said a voice, and they all turned to see Eddie leaning against a pillar. He scowled at them. “Don’t be fooling yourselves.”
    He turned and stomped off, and the crowd reacted as if it were a miniature Running of the Bulls, diving and leaping out of his way to avoid the inevitable carnage that would ensue on contact.
    “I don’t understand him,” Bryony said softly. “He seems to dislike me so much.”
    Eyes met, heads nodded in silent communication. The young girl with almond eyes put her arms around Bryony.
    “I think he likes you just fine. Probably more than he would prefer. You see—”
    “No, don’t tell me,” Bryony said. She stood up, gathered a handful of flowers. “I am going to ask him myself. Wish me luck.”
    Good luck and wishes and prayers abounded.
    She pulled her red coat tighter around herself, held the flowers delicately, yet firmly