It's showtime.
Cross schooled his expression to one of classical indifference. It was as if his daughter's life was not on the line and he hadn't a care in the world. 'This was simply another monetary transaction' he thought to himself. 'A daily occurence'
The footsteps grew closer. In a few seconds, the area where he stood was covered by an ominous shadow. It was the shadow of that of a monster.
"You're late." Cross said to the beast in front of him. He looked casual, noncommittal.
Without skipping a beat, the beast countered. "I'm not late. You're simply early."
"Did you bring the goods?" Wentworth asked.
Cross brought out a heavy bag and opened it for Wentworth to see the contents.
It was full of canines. Yes. Canines. Teeth.
"It's all there. You can count it if you like." Cross bluffed.
