Rose was missing a large chunk of her spine. It wasn't entirely noticeable at first. Her long hair, brown and smooth, fell down to the nape of her back. Her movements weren't constrained, though they failed to match the grace her beauty would suggest. She was slim and tall, elegant and refined. Like most men, he likely would have fallen in love with Rose at first sight had she not been carrying a dead body over her shoulder. Though it was a full-grown man, now cold and lifeless, it must have weighed very little. She threw it to the ground in one easy motion, its useless arm brushing her hair aside as it flung from its perch on her shoulder, and only then did he notice the spot starting midway down her neck and running just between her jutted shoulder blades. A space where skin and tissue and bone should be, but there was none. Just a window into her insides where the spine stopped abruptly, then began again as it reached the base of her skull.
Jack took a step back from his vantage point, grabbed his cereal bowl from the counter and emptied his stomach onto his Christmas sweater.