orley Munson was covered in filth. He had lost the boy in the brush and he was now searching near a creek bed for any sign of him. It was his own fault that the child had slipped from his grasp and he was scared that the boy would make it back to town (and safety). It didn’t seem likely, not with the horrible head wound that Morley Munson had been able to inflict when he first surprised him on the trail, but it was still a point of worry and that is why Morley Munson was now splashing through the mud and weeds in a business suit. Searching.
Morley Munson was about to give in when
a flash of red caught his eye. It was a small patch of the child’s shirt, still visible behind the reeds (where the boy was now hiding). Morley Munson crouched just off to one side of the embankment, waiting for him
to rise up out of the muck and look for an escape route. Morley Munson felt his cock begin to stiffen.
Morley Munson pounced on the boy with surprising vigor and pulled the boy close to him. Yes, he was certain now. This was the same child who had smiled at him after taking his picture (along with Constance Freeman). He wasn’t smiling now, however. The child was shaking and bleeding and terrified.
Morley Munson was now the one grinning, holding the boy’s face in his hands as he smiled at him. Then Morley Munson drove his thumbs into the boy’s eye sockets until the vile jelly inside flushed down onto his (expensive) shirt cuffs. The boy passed out and Morley Munson calmly twisted his neck until he was dead.
Morley Munson buried the body with his bare hands and hurried home.