Anne locked the door and checked that it would not open. She lifted back the small curtain over the little window in the door just enough to peek out to make sure no one was near the house on the street.
The door to the basement creaked as Anne opened it and descended into the dark. At the bottom of the stairs she flipped the switch to turn on the light. She made her way to the workbench on the far side of the basement.
On the workbench there was a sewing box and a photo album. Anne opened the album slowly, savoring the feel of the fake leather cover as she anticipated the contents she would see.
Page after page was neatly filled with photographs of young women's head and neck. If she didn't know better she would think they were sleeping. Her eyes focused on each neck, admiring the slight bruising around the pink ribbon tied into a simple bow.
Anne was startled by the squeak of metal springs off in the corner of the basement. She took a deep breath and tried to stifle a smile. "It's okay, dear. It will only be a little while now."
She opened the sewing box and gently lifted a length of pink ribbon out. Then she turned and slowly walked toward the cot in the corner. Anne ran the pink ribbon through her fingers as she walked.
"It will be over soon, dear." Anne knelt by the cot while wrapping part of the ribbon around her left hand.
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