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Mila steps in, shutting the door behind us, then follows me through the freezer. I open a hidden door in the back, and we descend the dark stairwell and into a little basement I’ve constructed.

“Well, well, Dicky, you finally did it!” Dean’s voice comes through the ajar door in an almost cheerful tone. “Any last words before the executioner rolls in?”

“L-Let me go. Dean, you’ve always been a decent guy. You don’t have to do this.”

“You are you to ask me for help?” The pounding of a fist against flesh gets my blood moving.

Mila approaches the door slowly, just peering around the corner.

“Violet told me everything. You know, I came to find her after that night you beat her?” I nudge Mila forward, and we enter my little torture chamber. It’s simple. Cement floors, cement walls. Complete with air vents, soundproofing, a wood stove, cookware, and a few of my personal favorite torture devices. It’s a bit medieval, just how I like it.

Secured to the Iron chair built into the right wall, sits Richard. We had our opening this afternoon when his guards were nowhere in sight, and we grabbed him.

Dean lands his fist into Richard’s face once, twice, a third time. Blood now pouring out of his nose. Then Dean backs up and spits in his face. Then he turns on his heel, his eyes widening when he spots Mila.

“You should come with me… This will be a lot to stomach.” Dean offers her his hand, but she shakes her head. I drop the body in the corner of the room, right in Richard’s line of sight, and lean back against the wall with my legs crossed at the ankles. The absence of pressure brings relief to my throbbing stump. “If you change your mind, walk through the other door inside the freezer, take a left, then go through the door at the back of the kitchen. Up the stairs, and you’ll find our apartment.” She nods, and Dean takes his leave, closing the door behind him.

I pull out a couple of herbal cigarettes, holding one out to Mila. She takes it, and I light it with a match. Richard watches me while I take a few drags, blowing the smoke in his direction once the lavender has burned my throat.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. It’s not just about you being one of my father’s favorite pawns, the bidding you do for him, or the things you hear… I started planning your death the day of my mother’s funeral. When you came looking for Violet, and I had to hide her in the greenhouse.” His lips purse together, the top pulling up in almost a snarl. I take another drag of my cigarette and let my remedy consume me.

It’s not just the herbs. It’s this. It’s seeing Richard finally in my chamber. The prospect of his torture and demise brings me a peace that no amount of herbal remedies could ever provide.

He’s no longer a threat to Violet.

“Just get it over with, kid,” he puffs out. I shake my head.

“Funny, you’ve used that one before.” My tone is so dry that my vocal cords should be scraping along my throat. “Tell me everything you know about human trafficking coming straight to Aurelia? Where are the women, Richard?”

He spits in my direction. I tut.

“We both know that you’re a little bitch who beats on women,” I continue. “As frightening and sadistic as you think my father is, his sadism comes from chaos, mine from calculation. He’s not all there, but I am…” I crouch before him, sitting on my haunches, pulling my cigarette from my lips, and pressing the tip to the inner corner of his eye.

“Ahhh!” He yells, crying out to a world that won’t hear him.

“You see, Richard, I like your pain.” My voice is low, darkening as the king of demons rises inside of me. “My senses come to life and revel in your cries.” I rise, tossing the cigarette to the side. “Do you know how my mother died?” Richard scoffs and shakes his head.

I lean forward, looking down my nose at the cockroach that he is. “I ate her,” I say, and I get exactly what I want. His eyes widen, and his brow pinches together. His breathing rises to quick, shallow breaths.

He knows I’m not kidding.

“I’ve consumed the flesh of six of my victims. Do you want to be the seventh? You get to watch.” He retches, gagging, and I take a step back to avoid the pitiful amount of stomach acids he’s able to get out.

“You’re sick,” he says as he spits out a bit of saliva.

I thought I would feel something the first time I ate my victim.

I didn’t.f

“I know. Self-awareness… That’s what makes me worse than Alistair.” Pulling my knife from its sheath, I grab a handful of his golden locks and yank his head back until he’s staring up at me, pressing the tip of the knife to his throat. “Where are the women?”

“I don’t know!” He yells out the whimper.

He’s lying.

I toss his head back, grab his shirt, and slice through it. Revealing his disgusting, round beer belly.

He’s too disgusting even for my devilish tastes. I’m not going to eat him.