As Romeo left the small apartment, Marcia settled in to do her job. No one was waiting for her at home. It was a boring Tuesday night with no reason to hurry.
As she crouched down in glass, her stomach growled painfully. She felt a bit queasy and light headed. Making a mental note to complain next time she went back to the diner where she had lunch, she unbuttoned the top of her pants and started taking notes on the victim.
The guy had a pretty average build; young, somewhere in his early twenties. His muscles were well-defined, but not bulging; like he maybe had a job somewhere stocking shelves. Perhaps the only thing unusual about the man was his hair—his forearms were covered in a thick layer of body hair; odd, not only because there was so much of it, but because it was a grayish color, and the man was a natural brunette. Marcia looked at the hair on his head, wondering if maybe he had dyed it—unusual for a man unless he was older or hiding from someone. Either, she figured, were good reasons to off yourself, so she crept a little closer to take a better look at his hair. No roots were showing, in fact, the color looked pretty mundane; a regular, lightish brown. Who would dye their hair such a boring shade?
It was then that Marcia noticed the man’s ears—