He was a collector, although few people called him that. But really he was.
“You’re just a regular asshole.”
He slapped the girl. Gagged her. He didn’t like girls who cursed: girls were supposed to be proper, sweet. Of course, that’s why he’d brought her here. She was a sinner, a call girl lost in lust. She needed to be shown the way.
But she fought, kicked him and tried to escape. It took all his strength to stop her though she was tied to a chair. By the time she stopped moving, he realized he’d bludgeoned her to death in anger. He groaned. he was a collector of souls, reforming them before their final journey. Killing them before they saw the path made him cranky.
Grumbling, he wrapped her in white curtains; she looked an angel, but for the red spoiling the veil. She must disappear. Like the others.