[2/2]

Nathalie was no longer in the crowded streets. She fell victim to The Violet Burner right in front of centuries of people, but none noticed her sudden disappearance. She was just another insignificant number amongst millions. Mere statistic on the flashy billboards.

When she came back to her senses Nathalie couldn’t hear the Caged Sparrow Club’s music anymore, nor the annoying, never-ending, electric buzz of the flying cars.

Only oppressive silence loomed wherever she was.

She was tied to a chair. Hands in cuffs. Eyes covered by some type of blindfold.

“Don’t even bother screaming.” A female, melodic voice broke the silence. “No one will hear you. But please, do try if you so wish.”

“I- Where am I? What’s happening?” Nathalie groaned, still confused because of the EMP blast from before.

The woman laughed. A sadistic, hauntingly beautiful and alluring sound.

“Well, you’re in Ican’ttellyoustreet, 12345. As for what’s happening, we’re about to start the tea party, darling!”

A sense of urgency and terror rushed through Nathalie, quickly clearing the fog in her mind. Her kidnapper got closer.

“I-It’s you! The V-Violet Burner!”

“Ugh. I hate this dumb name.” The Serial Killer said as she sat on Nathalie’s lap. “My real name is Elizabeth; Elizabeth Bathory. You may call me Liz for the remainder of your very short life. Pleased to meet you, cutie.”

Nathalie felt Elizabeth’s hand slithering through her body. It started on her tights, crawled through her abdomen, danced enticingly in between her breasts… until it finally reached her face, where it softly caressed her cheeks.

“W-What do you want from me? I’m just a nobody!”

“Quite on the contrary, dear. You’re very much a body. No wonder why men and women throw money at you as if there was no tomorrow in that flashy night club.” She teased. “I wonder if the quality of your Hyasynther matches the quality of your looks.”

Elizabeth’s hand slipped from Nathalie’s cheek and she could feel the predatory woman’s lips pressing onto the soft skin of her neck.

“W-what the hell?!” Nathalie tried to push the woman off her lap, seemingly forgetting about the handcuffs in her hands.

“Don’t you feel anything?” Overcomed by desperation Nathalie tried to guilt-trip the Serial Killer. “When you take people’s lives and break their wills, don’t you feel anything?!”

Elizabeth sat straight, still on her victim’s lap. She softly grasped Nathalie’s head in between her hands, slightly tilting it upwards.

“Do you know how many people died yesterday? How many people died last month?”

“W-What? Why the hell would I know this?”

“Exactly, thousands! Thousands of lost lives and I can count on one hand the number of people who knew their names. They are but mere numbers. Statistics on neon billboards. So tell me, darling, which one am I supposed to feel sad for? All of them? Just the ones I killed? Or, perhaps, just the ones I know the name?!”

Elizabeth closed the already short distance between her and her victim. So close she could now feel the woman’s metallic, warm breath.

“I- I…” Nathalie couldn’t focus, consequence of the sudden proximity.

“That’s why I do what I do. I give them a meaningful death, a memorable demise; those I kill are no longer numbers adorning the billboard of a neon skyscraper, no… they are fine works of art. They are eternal.”

Elizabeth pulled herself back, removing Nathalie’s blindfold.

And as both women locked eyes, the small, dark and empty room filled with bright lights. Lights so bright they could rival the fake, neon lights of Neon City - but, unlike the flashy billboards and skyscrapers, these lights did not give the feeling of plastic love, no. It was real.

Electric sparks exploded in a multitude of glowing lights. They danced around between the women’s chest. Serial Killer and Victim; Kidnapper and Kidnapped. Electricity flashed through their skin and in their eyes they could see answers to questions never asked. They could feel emotions long numbed by the bleak city and inside of eachother they found themselves.

Once again Elizabeth leaned into Nathalie’s neck, this time she let the woman bit her; she let herself be drank into the Serial Killer’s love. Neon, violet waves creating an everlasting link between the two of them.

Such link created their first work of art together. Their first memoir, eternalized in rhythmic echoes of flashing blood and sizzling electricity.