18: Killer

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Chapter Eighteen- Killer


1. The worst thing you could possibly do.

2. Don't fucking murder someone. Ever.

"Paul and me..." Ji said. "Our bond is stronger than you humans will ever know."

"It's a shame, mon amour," Paul said. "We're pretty close."

"Help me, Paul," she said.

"I live to help you."

The floor tiles were old and worn. A piece of the wall was sunken in, revealing threadworm bricks. The stove was old and speckled. A tiny light hung from the ceiling in each room. The whole place smelled like mothballs. Ji and Paul's place was probably supposed to be secluded; judging from the thick cushioning on the walls- meant to make the place more soundproof.

There was still a strange liquid in my arm. My eyes were blurred for a moment and the syringe took me somewhere else.

I was Tyson again. I was inside his head.

"My sister and I've been separated for nearly twenty centuries... And somewhere along the way, she'd changed somehow. Maybe she'd seen something, or watched it occur, or imagined it. But either way, her marbles could simply not be found. She was changed forever."

I think I thought he was exaggerating. But dear God, the Dollhouse King really wasn't joking.

I thought I was scared of Tyson before.

I thought I was scared before.

The girl on the kitchen table was dead. I was sure of it. It smelled rank, like a butcher's shop, but with the most bizarre twinge of sweetness.

The girl herself, was not beautiful. No one could be, in her situation. Her eyes were rolled over and her chest is torn apart. It wasn't just biting.... It was devouring. Did this count as cannibalism?

Paul's fangs were out, sharp and shining like silver. Ji was grinning like her school just blew up. Hayden was just standing there, stunned, squinting all confused and stupid, like a dog in a sprinkler.

He was staring at the dead girl.

The dead girl...

The dead girl...

The dead girl...

The dead girl had no arms. Well, she did, but they'd been sliced clean off her body. Instead, they lay near her body, stacked on top of her cold stomach. Same with her two lanky legs.

Meanwhile, Paul bounced around near the kitchen area. His eyes were rapt, and calm. He glanced at the dead girl, casually, like the simple sight of her steadied him.

"Why?" Hayden croaked out.

"Killing reminds us of the futility of life, Hayden," Ji smiled. "Call it our religion."

Ji giggled and kissed Paul on the cheek. They stepped closer until they were languishing right next to one another. Just studying the expressions that flitted across our faces, like we were total lab experiments.

My breaths shuddered. The syringe was still deep inside the flesh of my arm. A grey-blue liquid was still in the top part, drilling deep inside me.

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