He had timed it perfectly. Time per lbs. He stood in the dimly lit storage room, zoned out for a while, fantasizing about the taste. He had visited her so many times. Victoria. She looked at him with those eyes, eyes that he struggled to shake from his thoughts. He would sit with her for hours, taking in every inch of her, every tiny little detail imprinted in his memory. She knew. She hadn’t caught him in the act but she knew he stirred for her. She liked it.
He had been avoiding her for a while now. He knew that if he saw her he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. But he wanted to save her for a special occasion. Three long months he’d held off, not even stepping foot into Cargo Bay #12 where she resided. But he wasn’t strong like she was. She was next.
Everything went to plan. Shutting down the pod, transporting her. She was small, athletic. It was a joy to move her. He calculated the time for defrosting, like he’d done so many times before, and left her to see to a few tasks.
Now he was back. He stared at the table where he laid her. Empty. It was glistening with water droplets, slivers of ice. A pool had formed on the linoleum floor as she’d defrosted. She had disturbed the puddle as she left, leaving a shiny trail of petite footprints towards the door behind him. He followed them with his head, towards his own feet, visualizing her walk right through him.
His hands clenched into fists. He strode to the second table where he had carefully laid out his tools. There was a gap. His hatchet. He took the mallet, the handle wrap creaking as he gripped it tightly. And followed the footprints out into the corridor.
DOMA Comics 
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