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Nothing ever works to quell the rage inside my heart.
Mother.
A word I despise so much even though I used to love it so much.
Before I knew how twisted that word could become.
Now all that’s left is a remnant of my family.
Broken. Shattered into pieces.
I turn around in bed, squeezing my pillow like I’m choking someone, but nothing will eliminate this anger.
So I throw my blanket off, groaning with annoyance, and get up.
Sleep is not going to work tonight, and only one other thing can calm my raging heart.
Violence.
So I go on to the laptop and check the same website as before, the one I’ve visited so many times, to see if I’ve got my next bait.
A smile forms on my face when I find out multiple people have replied to my posts.
All of those people are abhorrent, vicious monsters who deserve to die.
Just like my mother did.
I grab my outfit and my bag filled with tools and weapons, and I make my way out of the door and the sorority building, ready for my knives to meet my next victim’s blood.
* * *
When I finally get tothe shoddy place in the middle of the city, I park my motorcycle out front and check out the neighborhood before I put on my mask and head toward the house. A big yard in front is filled with all kinds of bushes and trees tightly cramped together like a mini jungle. It looks like a pretty piece of nature, but a wretched monster hides within this place.
I head toward the door clutching my backpack filled with tools and weapons.
My heart’s racing in my throat because I know what’s about to happen—the thrill of the chase, the hunt, the kill.
It drives me, pushing me to go beyond my limits.
And to me, it’s a moment of bliss.
A little sliver of heaven as evil people are punished and cut from this world for their crimes.
As I walk onto the porch, I hear noise inside.
My ears perk up as I listen.
Two—no, three voices. And they sound awfully young.
But my target isn’t young at all. He told me he was fifty, so who the fuck are these people?
I’m definitely not alone even though the message the man sent me clearly said he would be.
What the fuck is going on?
I creep up to the window and look through.
Three guys wearing white masks just like the ones at the Phantom Society party are beating a dude with a bat and a pair of nunchucks. The hits are slow and painful, and I can’t help but focus on their faces hidden behind those damn masks. All that’s visible are their smiles and tongues as they dip out to lick the seam of their lips as they torture him.
