Lucy's Not Alive: Chapter 11. Some time had passed. Seemingly quite a bit, considering the sun had already risen, but Lucy had trouble telling exactly how much because there was no more sleep, and the few spirits with wristwatches could no longer read them. Lucy was enjoying a long spell of introverted analysis, when Peter spoke for the first time in what felt like ages. “I have an Idea” he swept the hair from his face “I know our first step.” “Well then spit it out” She said frankly. Peter looked at her crossly before continuing. “We have to go back to your old house” he scratched his scruff “that way I can get inside, and possibly figure out where we are in all this” his gaze fell on Lucy “you know, so we can get a better understanding of how everything’s turned out, for all we know Jane could be in a jail cell somewhere, awaiting trial.” “That’s right” Lucy sighed “she did cut
Lucy's Not Alive: Chapter 10, part 2. Peter Alan White died on an evening that felt like any other. He lost his life in a way that many do. He was driving home from Gwen’s house when it happened. Peter gripped the steering wheel with one hand as he rearranged himself. Feeling the moistness between his legs reminded him of the hours before he started driving, and when he was still thrusting deep within Gwen. Peter did so regularly, whenever he wasn’t with Stacey or Piper. Gwen, unlike the others, was really Peter’s type of girl. She had long bleach white hair, with red lips that sat pouty under her little rabbit nose. Her green eyes, with their thick black liner, nestled perfectly in the center of her creamy skin, creating a lovely contrast. Gwen was snarky, and perhaps a bit crass, but it was her ability to fuck without feelings that Peter appreciated the most. The road was dark, and there was no denying some new streetlamps were needed. Peter flicked open his butane lighter to ignite the ciga
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