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“V! Vayle! V-A-Y-L-E!” He pants. “Robert Vayle!”

“Ope! Look at you, just in the nick of time!”

Steve starts to whimper, and his lip trembles. “Man, I don’t want to die.”

I open my phone and look up the name. Formerly from Baltimore, which matches the slight accent I detected from the video. After swiping through a couple photos, I can confirm that those are definitely the same old-ass hands wearing the same ring that’s in the video.

“Congratulations!” I pick up the last syringe, pushing down the plunger and squirting the liquid into the air like a tiny fountain. “They were all saline, by the way. Cascuronium isn’t real, but the look on your face was totally worth it.”

His chest is still heaving breaths. “Okay, I told you,” he sobs. “Now let me go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I told you what you needed to know!”

“Oh, I never said I was going to let you go. I just said if you lied I’d inject you with a syringe.”

“No! You said the truth would set me free!”

“Yeah, but I’m not Truth—I’m Karma.”

Steve’s forehead wrinkles. “You said you were Wolf.”

“No, well, yes. Man, shut up. I can change my mind. I’m Karma.”

He stares at me perplexed. “What?”

“K-A-R—Actually, let me just . . .” I pluck the lino cutter off the table and jump on top of the timeworn bed covered in plastic, then straddle his thighs.

“What is that?” he shouts, eyes fixed on what’s in my hand.

“This?” I hold up the tool with a rounded wooden handle. “A lino cutter.”

His throat bobs, his gaze fixed on the sharp instrument. “What is it for?”

“Oh, you can use it for cutting linoleum, or if you’re crafty like me—printmaking. Usually you get a block of rubber, sketch your design, then carve out the negative space. They make shallow cuts along the surface of the material. Like designing a rubber stamp. There are various blades that come with the tool. Look, here’s the smallest, it’s a #1 V-gouge, this is used for fine delicate lines that require a lot of detail. And this one . . .”

I grab the larger blade.

“See how it’s bigger and curved like a U? This is a #5 U-gouge. This is usually used to cut out the remaining negative space quickly after you’ve finished the block. It may not look like much, but these little bastards are wicked sharp. Or at least, they were at one time. Mine are a little old. There’s this new model I’ve had my eye on—” I bark out a laugh. “Wow, I’m getting way off topic. Sorry—ADHD.”

I slide the blade through his sweat-stained T-shirt from hem to neck and lay open the flaps, baring his chest. Flesh and rubber have similarities in the way they cut, but something tells me he’s going to be louder.

“Stop! Hold on!”

“Wait—you know what would make this more fun?” I grab my wireless speaker and link it to my phone, then scroll through a few playlists. “Do you like Blues Traveler?”

He fans out his fingers, tensing up. “Stop!”

I cue up the song, bopping my head to the first few beats before I get back to my arts and crafts. I am keenly aware of the most sensitive parts of the body to tattoo; that’s where I aim to spend my time. “Nothing like a blank canvas.”

“No!”

“Yup!”

I start on the right side of his chest, stick the U-shaped blade in and push it upward; he screams over the chorus to “Hook” as I carve out a perfect line of skin from the surface.

Holding the skinny strip of flesh in front of his face, I give it a little jiggle like a worm. “Cool, huh?”