Page 6 of Mean One

“Cindy or something!” Max and I looked at one another. Interesting. “Please, please let me go. I did what you asked. I gave you her name. Please!”

“Go?” I laughed, Max mimicking me as we looked at the old man. “Oh, no.” I let go of the handle as the metal slab fell and crushed his entire arm, his bones breaking and squishing, followed by his unnatural cries. I bent down, gripping his jaw as I stared into his fear-stricken eyes.

“Who said you’d be walking out of here alive?” My hand flexed as my claws began to brutally shred and tear away at his flesh, reaching deep into his stomach as I played with his organs. His eyes bulged, watching me as I gripped his intestines and ripped them fully from his gut. His blood ran down my hand, coating my fur in such a deep, dark crimson. “Besides,” I played with the blood between my claws, “I need ink to leave a message.”

Max stood behind the man, snapping his neck gracefully as I rose to paint my words across the wall:You’re next, Cindy. I’m coming for you.

I stepped back, admiring my work. Max rested her head against my chest, raising my claw as she sucked it clean, her tongue gliding along my fur. I stared down at her, our eyes locked as she grinned, my finger between her teeth.

“So fucking wicked.”

Chapter 3

May-Martha

“May?May, open up! It’s me.” Gus knocked against the locked door of my room, impatiently waiting for me to let him in. I hesitated before unlatching the many locks as he burst into the room, his face red and sweaty, as if he’d been running for hours. I could tell something was wrong by the look plastered across his face.

“Gus?” I gently grabbed his arm, helping him to the bed as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s happened? What is it? Gus, what’s wrong?” He struggled to speak, panting as he looked at me, his eyes soaked in fear.

“The Grouch,” he wheezed. “He’s killed again.” My heart sank at his words. “He… Fuck, he brutally murdered the old man who works down at the printing press. There’s blood everywhere. Everywhere! The whole place is a bloodbath, May. Fuck, and he—” he gagged, “he used the old man’s blood to leave a message on the wall right next to his corpse.” He painted the most disgusting, sickening image as I tried not to imagine what he must’ve seen.

He left a message? Another one?My face burned with fear, wondering what it must say.

“What is it?” Gus rubbed his face, struggling to control his temper. “Gus, what did the message say?” He looked at me, his expression stone cold.

“He’s coming for Cindy.”

“Cindy? The reporter?” He nodded. “But why?” Cindy never did anything to him.

“My guess is he didn’t like the piece she did with his mother. So, naturally, he’s targeting her. A bit extreme, if you ask me, to want to kill someone over a fucking article. But then again, that monster isn’t just someone. He’s an abomination.” Gus spat on the floor, grumbling to himself. I hated when he called him that.

If the Grouch was going after Cindy, I needed to warn her, and sooner rather than later.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I’ll run down and get you something warm to eat?” Gus eyed me closely before nodding, leaning back on my bed.

“Get me some water real quick, will you?”

I offered a forced smile, stepping to my dresser as I poured him a glass, facing away from him. Without drawing attention, I carefully retrieved a small pouch from my corset and dumped the powdery contents into his glass, waiting until it fully dissolved. My eyes stared back at their reflection through the mirror, and I found no sympathy for what I was about to do to him.

“Here you go,” I chimed as I turned, handing him the water, watching as he raised it to his lips.

Yes, drink it all, you fucking pig.

I waited until there wasn’t a drop left before grabbing my coat and rushing to the door. I stopped and spoke to him over my shoulder, my voice low and gentle. “Sleep well.”

“I’m wide awake, May. Just…hurry back with the-the food—” He slumped over onto the bed, sunken into a forced sleep. I shut the door behind me and quickly made my way out of the brothel, down to the snowy street.

Thank God for fucking drugs.

Cindy wasn’t farfrom the brothel, working her usual night shift at the bar around the corner. I carefully ducked inside the smoky building, brushing the snow off my jacket as I approached the heavily tattooed woman behind the counter, her blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail as she tossed her dish rag over her shoulder and turned to face me.

“What can I get you—” Her smile dropped as she recognized me. “Well, if it isn’t the infamous May-Martha. Tell me, did you finally run out of dicks to ride in that brothel and decide to come down here and give us ladies a try?” Cindy winked, leaning forward as her breasts pressed against the top of the bar.

“If only women paid to fuck me,” I teased.

“Nah, us ladies don’t have to pay for sex. Forcing people to fuck us with fake smiles until we leave the room—that’s what men do.” She sucked her teeth, looking at my outfit. “So, are you still dealing with Gus?”

“Unfortunately. You know he’s always taken an extra liking to me. Thankfully, I have a little friend that makes it bearable.” I lifted the small bag from between my breasts as she smiled.

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