The Home Of Oscar De La Venta
The big man carefully filled the small syringe. Three drops of this, two drops of that; just a little was enough. Steve Madison was finished toying with Oscar De La Venta. Oscar wasn’t sure who Steve Madison was. As far as he could find, the man didn’t exist. But he had finally spoken with him so he knew that Steve was for real.
He carefully resheathed the syringe and put it inside the black box with the silver pentagram necklace.
“If I must be cheated out of killing Scott Nolan,” Oscar said aloud. “Then Steve Madison will have to do.” He pulled a box off of the shelf and shook it. Its contents rattled. He opened it.
“Soon, Steve Madison,” he said. “I shall add you to my trophy box.” Oscar’s evil laughter shook the ceiling beams.
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