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The sweet little kitten allowed me to scratch behind its ears and make kissy faces. The sweet baby began purring and trying to rub its head into my waist.
Cats were amazing. Animals far surpassed humans, that was for damn sure. The feline followed me into the hardware store, scampering between my legs as I made my way inside the place.
A large biker-looking man was behind the counter, flipping through bills and looking up only to glare at me.
“No hairy little piss-stains allowed in my shop,” the man bellowed.
What kind of psycho hated cats?
Ignoring him, I continued to scan the shelf for a knife that at least had a similar weight to my dagger. Sighing and frustrated, I finally grabbed one that would suffice and returned to the counter. The balding man had sweat pouring down his face and smelled like old cheese. He leaned in close, and his breath smelled even worse as he narrowed his eyes at me.
“I said, no hairy—” he started, but I slapped my hand over his mouth to silence him.
Surveying the area quickly, I noticed the store was empty, and the camera on the far back wall was a fake. Placing my purchase on the counter, I latched onto his shirt collar and pulled him in nice and tight. This guy was a slob. His orange shirt had ketchup stains on it, and his belt was digging into his gut, lifting his shirt just enough to reveal hairs poking out of the stretched skin covering his belly.
“I know what you said,” I stated, remaining calm.
He shook his head free and said, “So, get that tiny piece of shit out now, or I’ll add it to my collection of taxidermy friends behind me.”
He gestured behind his desk to an array of dead, stuffed animals. There were small and big animals, from rats and foxes to bison and lions.
So he was a poacher, a hunter, a killer…
The corners of my mouth lifted into a slight grin, and I raised my gaze until I felt the tip of his nose on mine.
“Very well,” I said.
Yanking on his shirt collar hard, I slid his large, sweaty, disgusting body over the counter and grabbed the man’s belt, ripping it from the loops. His pants fell to his feet, and he blinked in surprise.
But I grinned wider.
I snagged the blade from the counter in front of him. With one swift motion, I grabbed his pathetic penis and sliced it off, letting it fall to the ground. The damn thing felt like a shriveled-up raisin.
He screamed, buckling to his knees. He tried to stop the blood flow with his hands streaming from his crotch, but it was useless.
Bending down, I stabbed the inch of flesh off the carpeted floor.
The man, I mean sobbing mess, could not remove his hands for fear of bleeding out, so it was easy to shove his pitiful dick into his mouth. Slamming my hand over his mouth and nose, I blocked his airways until he had no choice but to swallow what had been given to him.
“There you are. Just as requested. The hairy piss-stain has been removed.” Sliding back over the counter, I beamed.
The scent of horror wafting off of the dying man gave me goosebumps. Again, I peeked at all the taxidermy behind him. There were so many animals there. Animals that were killed for their fur, meat, or sport. Their lives snuffed out by this man. The bastard probably laughed as he watched them suffer until they finally felt the mercy of death.
Well, now they could stare back into their hunter’s vacant eyes, knowing that he’d become prey in the end.
* * *
When I returned, the sniveling druggie wasn’t where I’d left him. The handcuffs laid open on the cemented ground by the docks.
What.
The.
Fuck.
I sauntered under the bridge, arriving at the cove. Most of the community was busy, but when they caught sight of me, they scurried away like rats. When I finally reached the torn black tent I had been seeking, I found Randall.
He was a sweet kid who didn’t deserve the life he’d been given. He was an educated twenty-year-old boy. The life of homelessness came to him when his older brother, Trevor, was found in their flat with a knife wound in his chest and obvious remnants of a drug overdose.
