“Where the fuck is your God, Father? Why isn’t He saving you? Because you’re a waste of fucking flesh, without a soul.”
The rage feels good. Too fucking good, as I fight myself to keep control. Someone physically abused Heather while she was here. And I want to know who it is so I can punish them.
“Did you hit her?”
“N-n-oo. It was Desjardins,” he cries pathetically as an idea springs to mind.
“Open his shirt and hand me your scalpel.”
Raven arches an eyebrow while Psycho chuckles.
“He doesn’t allow others to play with his toys.”
Reaper is quick to bark out a laugh.
“You’re one to talk.”
I disregard them both and glare at Raven.
“Scalpel. Now.”
With an annoyed sigh, he hands it to me and then rips open Murphy's black shirt.
Placing the scalpel against his flesh, I cut a straight line down before making another line across at the bottom. Knox chuckles as the priest looks horrified.
“An upside down cross.” Knox laughs to himself.
“Fucking perfect. She’d love that. I’m going to take a picture.”
He takes a photo with his burner phone because this isn’t our first rodeo. No iPhones with the damn cloud for us.
I hand the scalpel back to Raven and step back, giving him room.
We all stand watching Raven finish the job as Psycho leans in and speaks low.
“I couldn’t see how we were related. You didn’t seem like us, but now—I get it. You’re a fucking psycho, too.”
Somehow, I know this is his version of a compliment. We are one large, fucked up family.
“That’s fucking gross,” Knox laughs once the priest's skin is hanging down from his chin. His bloody skull without flesh makes his eyeballs stand out. Glancing at Raven, I try to process the man he is today with the way he is with Bianca. He has been fairly quiet around us, but now he grins proudly.
“I’m a fucking artist. I bet none of you could do that while keeping the skin intact.”
Grabbing a piece of paper from Murphy’s desk, I scrawl out a note.
We are coming for you.
There’s no army big enough to protect you from the hell ready to rain down on you.
You took what’s ours.
And now we’ll take what's hers.
God is dead, and soon you will be too.
See you soon.
Stuffing it into Murphy's mouth, he whimpers, but he’ll be dead soon.
