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I consider Baxter’s suggestion, do his dick next, and I think of Michael and their rotten family tree. I think of Raven and Nix. I think of Lizzie and the unborn baby in her belly, put there under the most horrific circumstances, but she was determined to love it anyway.
No.
There’s no way this fucker is being allowed to do this ever again. Hopefully this family’s depravity begins and ends with Michael and Charlie. I won’t allow this gene pool to hurt anyone else. I’ll weed out and cut down every bad vine on the family tree. Starting with incapacitating the one in front of me. Permanently.
My resolve firms, my grip on my knife tightens. I step up to the bed once more. With the ruthless efficiency of a butcher, I remove his testicles, my blade slicing through his flesh like a hot knife through butter. It’s almost too easy.
“Going to clean,” I grunt at Baxter, taking my tools with me into the bathroom. I can’t go back to Raven like this.
Shaking my head, I quickly clean off my tools in the sink and then step under the lukewarm shower spray to rinse off the blood before it dries. I refrain from using any products; the last thing I’d want is to go home to Raven smelling like him.
Done, I quickly dry off using a towel from my kit bag and pull on my spare change of clothes. I survey my reflection in the mirror. Warm violet eyes stare back at me, no guilt, remorse or shame in my gaze. I’m still me, and I’ll kill, maim and torture for anyone I love.
Please refrain from sending food in the mail to my great-granddaughter. It is uncouth and unhygienic. They went straight into the bin, along with your poorly written, virtually illiterate note.
You are not on the child’s list of prescribed visitors and you will be hearing from my lawyer shortly as I intend to update the order to include barring my granddaughter from phone, video and written correspondence.
You will be denied all contact, and if you continue to attempt to reach out to Phoenix Elizabeth, I will take this further.
Good day,
Ms C Deighton.
