×   $1,208.75   No more, no less.   Those were the numbers her bank account displayed on her phone screen all day long. It was her only bank account, too. So, it was the only savings account she had been maintaining for about ten years now.   "Patience, Jess. It'll work out. Just trust the process..." Jessiah mumbled the words as she stared at her phone screen, trying not to frown.   She had been waiting for the figures to change all week. Frankly she was praying every day and every night for some money to come in after that two-day modeling stint she just finished and worked for last week. 

× Los Angeles, California × New season. New goals. New problems. Translation: more workload and stress for them all year. To his dismay, it was just the reality for a busy man like him. He asked for it, though. Ever since he learned how cruel life could be for a piss-poor nobody, he'd been dreaming of having a moneymaking career like this. A decent livelihood. A real job that made people respect him for his work and commitment. "Suck it up and do your best. Do I need to remind you everyone's counting on you?" his uncle would say if he was in a chatty mood. Jenson let out a sigh and flumped down in his swivel chair, tuning out the voices he didn't need to listen to right now. He stared at the dark and empty cubicles outside the huge glass dividers. The workstations were designated for their staff—20 or so on this floor. Unlike him, they all lined up in front of the elevator once the clock struck five. He wished they didn't act like so, but, the management never really encouraged t

×   "Make it eight months. Gonna start shooting the next season soon. Some locations will be outside city limits. I'll need a dependable supply." "That would be 496 doses at 75 dollars per vial of the W70B30, Mr. Roiz." Jenson switched his phone to speaker mode as he reclined in his swivel chair. His spine and joints were aching again, and his headache wasn't helping his mood, either. "Yeah. Sounds about right," he replied to the pharmacy assistant on the other line. It wasn't exactly the usual pharmacy in this side of town, but it catered to their medicinal needs even at ungodly hours, practically open 24/7. As far as he knew, most of the pharmacy's customers ordered products and their prescription meds via phone or online. He imagined putting "also a certified wolfsbane potion dealer" on their storefront would most likely drive potential customers away, instead of attracting more patrons. "The packages will be delivered tomorrow

× No bloodstains on the pillows and sheets.  No signs of struggle.  No ligature marks on the young victim's neck or wrists.  The girl didn't look older than 25. No surprise there.  Darren didn't fancy older women.  No pulse.  Motionless.  Dead.  The girl was already dead.  Perhaps for about an hour now.  Her pallid skin wasn't cold to the touch yet.  Jenson got up from the floor and looked away from the corpse on the fairly messy bed.  The hotel room looked clean and orderly, but not too clean or suspiciously organized.  Hastily, he took off the surgical glove and curbed the strong urge to swear out loud and kick the nightstand. Darren was watching his every move despite the dimness.  Covered up by a dark robe, Darren stood against the wall with his hands on his head, clutching his tousled hair that partly hid his shadowed face and panic-stric

× 4:38AM × Formaldehyde. Water. Ten milligrams of wolfsbane. That should be enough.  Jenson stood next to the door and made sure no one else would find the girl in here.  He checked the big padlocks again. As utter silence filled the basement, he ran up the narrow stairs. He didn't have the right kind of embalming fluid for a deceased human body. For now he had to improvise. The situation called for it.  Preserving the poor girl's corpse for at least half a day would give him more time to think. He needed to come up with the best plan of action.  Darren was pretty much out of it. Shell-shocked. The idiot wouldn't be able to come up with a good plan to address their current conundrum. His current mental state might even cause another problem.  But at least Darren sobered up enough to keep his piehole shut all night.  "Pezzo di merda." Jenson sighed out loud as he trudged b