Page 32 of Property of Necro
So what if I don’t care about Sola?
Yeah. I tied a woman to a bed, and I’m hurting her for my own sick pleasure.
All those things are true.
But looks can be deceiving.
You don’t know me.
You don’t know the horrifying shit I’ve been through. Not that it matters.
This is penance.
A small price to pay compared to what this bitch has done.
She will die by my hand tonight. You can count on it.
I will spend hours torturing her, bleeding her, cutting out her womb, and stuffing it in the jar I have sitting in the sink in the bathroom for my trophy.
And I won’t feel an ounce of pity.
I won’t feel anything.
Because they did that to me.
They made me this way.
I killed them all for it, too.
Rot’s obnoxious hollering draws me from my sick musings.
“What?!” I snap.
“Did you seriously fuckin’ ignore me for the past three minutes?”
I shrug.
“I’m going to shove a literal corn cob up your ass and film it.”
Always with the dramatics. “No. You won’t.”
“Oh. Don’t push me, motherfucker. You broke your promise. Now, pan the camera to the table.”
I don’t. Because he already knows what’s there. They both do.
Necro signs,Did you find a goodone?
I dip my head.
He knows I only ever findgood ones, as he calls them. I text a number, and they give me a name along with the laundry list of their indiscretions. I hunt them down, and the rest is history.
I caught this bitch leaving the supermarket. It was as simple as taking candy from a baby. Not that I’d ever do that. Only assholes do that. As much as Rot talks trash, I’m not actually an asshole—I’m a sociopath. Rot diagnosed me. So, you might as well take that with a grain of salt. But he does read a lot on this stuff to try and help me and Necro exorcise our demons, or what-the-fuck-ever else he drones on about. He’s lucky we’re brothers, or I’d never put up with his nagging.
“Coffin!” Rot smacks the phone.
“What?!” I snarl.
“You’re ignoring me again.”
