Shylock
sighed as he slowly pried the final diamond from the intricate wedding band he’d
liberated from his latest kill, a jewelers monocle clenched by his eyebrow over
his left eye. He’d spent the better part of two hours slowly dismantling the
fantastic piece, careful not to scratch the gold as he peeled it of its
precious stones.
Why
he cared about the state of the old yellow gold, he couldn’t say. After years
of endless nights and tedious boredom, he found that he liked to challenge
himself with puzzles or games, or as he had done in the last twenty years,
metallurgy. Lifting his tweezers up in front of the bare bulb that lit his
small workshop, he examined the fine diamond carefully, before opening his four
tiered pillbox and depositing it with the rest of the point three carat
princess cut colorless diamonds.
