Manning. . An ancient smile lay on his lips. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. Petite build, like herself.
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