Page 41 of The Way We Rot

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So it took me a split second to realize my cell door had opened, that Randal had been ripped free from my sore body, and that cold was rushing over my naked skin.

The cool air jolted me, and I cried out, taking a beat to calibrate before I scrambled up, grabbing mypants from the floor and turning to see what the hell was happening. It took my brain a few long seconds to catch up with the sight before me. And yeah, a glimmer of hope heated behind my ribs.

It was Adrian, beating the shit out of Randal with his baton, slamming it onto his head over and over. My heart squeezed; my chest ached. What a fucking sight it was. Adrian was so angry, feral and blinded with rage, his muscles rippled, his jaw tensed and his eyes looked scary as hell as he beat the life from Randal.

Dressing fast, I shut the door for privacy and watched, wishing I had a lock on the inside I could twist to prevent anyone else coming. This wasn’t quiet.

“Adrian, man!” Randal begged, his voice wet. “Stop it! I was just doing what you said, you dickhead!”

Adrian didn’t stop, turning the baton on its end and slamming it onto Randal’s cheek as he fell to the floor. He pummeled him with that end until I saw something cave in Randal’s face.I was doing what you said…

Through his eye, his cheekbone squashed, Adrian waskilling him.

Holy shit.

I stepped forward and touched Adrian’s arm, wanting to do something before Randal died. A violent need grew in me, and I think Adrian saw it, because he stopped, expression wicked, and, panting out heavy breaths, held out the baton for me.

Kindred, I fucking knew it.

After a moment’s hesitation, making sure I was seeing reality, I took the baton. Adrian’s grin was evil, sharp and excited, as I measured the weight of the baton in my hand.

He held a slow finger to his lips, shushing me. Reminding me where we were.

Randal was groaning, his face a mix of gore and bone, lying flat on his back, arms lifting and falling in a shitty attempt to get up. I sat on his chest and squeezed his mouth open, just as he’d done to me mere minutes ago. He spluttered, tried and failed to fight. I pressed the baton to his lips and held it there, needing him to spend a minute in that anticipation of what was about to happen.

Randal only groaned, his mangled eye seeping blood, his unmangled one vacant, slow blinking.

“Penny,” Adrian said on a breath, running his hand through my hair, tugging it over my shoulder so he could see my face. We watched each other for a moment, but it was impossible to know what he was thinking. If he might be feeling regret or shame for what he’d allowed to happen.

I tilted Randal’s head back, his chin up, and shoved the baton into his throat. He gagged and gasped, but he was so far gone we got no other reaction. The angle was awkward, and I had to lean right over, but I felt Adrian behind me, watching, keeping me safe.

Pushing, pushing, the baton went down Randal’s throat, stretching inside his neck so the skin there pushed out. Like he had one long, massive Adam’s apple.

I watched the baton go further down, breaking past sinew and organs or whatever the fuck he had in his neck. His voice box. Esophagus. I didn’t stop until my fingers stretched his mouth, the baton inside him fully. His teeth clacked against the end as he fought for breath. We locked gazes for a moment.

Recognition flared through him; he was in a daze, but aware enough of his impending death. Fuck yes.I wanted to ask him what it was like on that edge, but that flash of awareness drifted away in a wave of disappointment.And the strangest thing… it didn’t make me sick to my stomach.

I sat back and smiled, breath coming in heavy pants. Knowing his organs had been thoroughly rearranged. And not in a good way.If I ripped through his abdomen now, there would only be mush, dark red churning offal.

“Little killer,” Adrian’s voice said from behind me, full of reverence as he stroked along my skin. I leaned into him, enjoying his steadying touch. “What have you done?”

My eyebrows dropped. Huh? I’d just finished the job he started. Adrian had been with me the whole time, his hands in my hair, stroking and loving…

Why did it feel as if everything was about to come crashing down? Something niggled in my addled brain and I leaned away from Adrian. He walked a circle around me, standing at Randal’s head. I gazed up at him like a prayer, on my knees with dead or dying Randal between my thighs.

I was jelly, soaking in the atmosphere, relishing the power in my body.

“Code red, emergency, CO down, Cell Block A, second floor. It’s Inmate Karner. She’s gone crazy!” Adrian looked at me, dead-eyed, as he spoke those words with breathless emotion, like he’d just arrived, having run down the corridor. His expression was so damn walled-up, unreadable.

My mouth dropped open.

“Get down!” he shouted at me again, his eyes turning to stone.

What–?

“You bastard,” I shrieked, reacting at last. Betrayal. That’s what this was. “You did this on purpose!” I jumped up, ready to attack him, wishing I could get that fucking baton back to ram it down his throat or up his ass. Instead, I slapped him as an alarm bell rang out across the prison and footsteps sounded in the hall. Other inmates bellowed, riled up, and I attacked Adrian.

“Get down, inmate!” Adrian sneered, and I only saw bitter hatred there. It surprised me. There was none of the warmth I thought was developing. Only hatred.But why? Why now, after everything… “Get down, or I’ll have no choice but to taze you!”