Page 16 of They Call Me Teddy


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Chapter Three

Teddy

By the time I’m finished my ‘drawing’, my boy-toy is no good for bringing upstairs any longer. No matter, though. Jane said now that we’re home, we can get Bud to do it for us. No more nights in the alleys getting victims for us or disposing of them in random—and sometimes disgusting—ways. Not that I minded all that much. Those considered to be the scum of the city fascinate me.

I ignore Branson in the cage behind me while I finish up. I haven’t quite decided what to do with him yet or how best to fuck with him. I can tell my little show unnerved him earlier, but that’s only the beginning. Jane taught me the truth and made me see.

The boy on my table is finally unconscious, his breathing shallow. I could leave him to suffer and die, keep Branson company. The thought is appealing because I know how much Branson would hate it, though he’ll be cleaning it up either way.

Sighing, I look down one more time before shrugging and dragging the scalpel across his throat. The boy's eyes open and I stare down smiling, cocking my head as the light rapidly fades from his eyes. Unlike Jane, there is no more appeal to me once they’re dead. I make art sometimes for fun or to please her, but it’s the pain I want and crave.

“Bye bye, little toy,” I whisper, hopping off the table. I look down at my dress, now covered in blood and small burn marks. “Oh, dear.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” I hear Branson croak and I perk up. I wondered if it might take him longer to accept that ‘Teddy’ is here to stay. The scalpel twists in my finger, stabbing the tip until I feel a sharp prick and I bite my lip in pleasure. Blood drips down. Turning to him, I put my bloody finger to my chin.

“Hmmm,” I say, slowly moving closer as I rub my chin. “I’m not sure what you mean. I’m the same ol’ Teddy!” I spread my arms out, grinning. His eyes look fucking dead as they watch me, and I let out a high-pitched laugh.

“Oh, Branson! I missed you so much! We’re going to have so much fun now that I’m home!”

I do a little twist in front of him, reveling in the look of misery on his face. I anticipated that he’d be expecting his little Mia when I walked in. He doesn’t realize that Amelia has been gone a long time. They all call me Teddy now.

“Now, don’t you go anywhere,” I say with a wink before turning off the light.

I close the door behind me with a giggle.

I’m so glad I’m home.

???

I make my way upstairs to go look for Jane, finding her in the living room talking quietly with Bud who has his back to me. I look at the big man with disgust. We did well enough on the road when I got our victims. I get that she doesn’t want to expose herself, but using such a repulsive man makes no sense to me. At least she could get herself a young, hot one or something.

Still, he handles the shit at the antique shop, from what I can tell, and does all the grunt bullshit for us outside the house.

My black shoes click against the wooden floor and Bud turns around, his eyes widening as he sees me for the first time in years. I don’t fail to notice the familiar reaction to how I look, the one that tells me much about Bud’s preferences. Pig.

I narrow my eyes, growling at him before letting off a small bark in his direction. His eyes get even wider before he drops his gaze. From the corner of my eye, I see Jane smirk.

“You need something?” she asks. My gaze burns into Bud a moment longer before I turn to her, delivering my best smile.

“Oh, not much. Just finished up the last one, that soldering pen is fantastic. Nothing to save, all for the garbage.”

Jane frowns. “What a waste and much too fast. It’ll be another week before I can send Bud to get another one.”

I shrug. I know she is all about the art, and while I try to please her to a degree, my time in the workroom is for me, not her.

“Where’s Branson?” she asks. I feel her trying to read me, but I merely let a manic smile show through.

“Still in his cage. He didn’t seem to like what I did with my toy.”

Jane turns to Bud. “Did you get the item I asked?”

He nods, lumbering over to the table and pulling out a bag to give to her. She pulls it out and hands it to me, and my smile grows.

“It’ll be perfect for him.”

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