✧ "I'M FLATTERED. And appalled that apparently there's a look I get." The latex gloves snap as Leonard pulled them over his hands. "Sometimes I get curious to how far you'd go if you didn't have a 'healthier means' to get to your perpetrators."
Otherwise, she wasn't wrong. The average killer, first-timer or otherwise, would perform dismemberment crudely. These cuts weren't a hacksaw job. This was art.
"Amputations at the joints, leaving the proximal joint surfaces intact. Look at the skin." He pointed with his finger. "No bruising or wrinkles. This wasn't done while the victim was alive. I know I just got here but where's the blood, detective?"
Watched a really nice video about Island of the Slaughtered and in order to free my mind from it, I'll rant about it and give some headcanons
TRIGGER WARNING for death, torture, ghosts/malevolent spirits, light SA mention/talk at the very end (it'll be in bold to be easier to notice! It starts after "Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work").
So, it's rare for writing to scare me. However, for some reason, this did give me a fright. Maybe the way the YouTuber read it, or perhaps the music and ambiance he added, is why I was hyper-vigilant while showering but the concept itself is terrifying when you think about it. 15 people died! You'd think that the kill count would stop, that they would survive for longer, but they don't. Even smart or athletic characters get caught... And for the dumbest reasons. Exactly like teenagers. They all make mistakes yet, somehow, this is barely their fault. They couldn't have planned it. They couldn't have known. The killer is almost omnipotent, it's like they can smell whenever there's an opportunity. They don't seize the simple moments of weakness (like how they didn't keep watch or, at least, only had one person which is exactly how Harold managed to sneak out and get killed), they wait until they can get that perfect chase or opportunity to torture the campers.
I feel like the sheer number of victims is what gets me. It's so easy to assume that they're all competent enough to survive a little longer. What makes it hit harder is that the last footage of those poor teens is the beginning of TTI up to Ezekiel's death. Imagine seeing the beginning of a horror movie composed of your loved ones and not knowing how it ended or, worse, learning that they were a victim, brutally killed, and you can't even have the body back. A whole month. That's how long it took for someone to go help them. Everyone knew. And no one did anything. Fucking Chris McLean ended up doing it. The same man who abandoned them, got them into this mess, and refused to say where the island was located.
Now, some headcanons before I overthink two of the deaths:
The canon serial killer and the one in this AU cohabit in the island. Maybe on good terms too. Our buddy with the hook and the chainsaw is just chilling, maybe helping out a little his mate, but enjoying the show. The chainsaw used for Heather might even be his! What a good pal.
The ghosts see each other as they were before their deaths. Be it that they're imagining it or that they can manifest a not-scary look. Owen and Geoff are forced to stay close but they really don't mind!
They don't really care for Chris's helpers. Sure, they were angry and disliked them, throughoutly tormenting them, but they weren't the target. They likely could have killed them, as the helpers probably accidentally broke some rules, but they were pawns to torment and scare Chris further. At some point, they begin to leave them alone as they realize that the helpers are their age... They're like them. Chris brought two more teenagers on an island with a serial killer, a monster who dismembered Ezekiel, with no experience and no actual weapons. Fuck, they're normal teens. What are they doing here?! This just angered the ghosts even more and cemented their desire to take revenge against Chris.
As long as Chris doesn't realize that he broke some rules, they let it go. Those are only here to scare him and make him squirm. To make him know that they're here at all times, watching, waiting for him to slip, loathing him.
While it's canon that the ghosts are fine with the survivors unless you've slighted them, they won't impose their rules and haunt you. They'll maybe taunt you and be here, reminding you that they died partly because of you, but they won't do much. For example, Trent will simply check in on Gwen. Her guilt is already enough and he doesn't have it in him to cause her more remorse. However, the sound of his voice as he sings into the night, kills her inside. He doesn't mean to but she's being eaten alive at not being able to get him out —even though she would have died with him if she stayed or manager to free him and they both know it. Noah, on the other hand, will glare at Duncan and make snippy remarks whenever he's trying to give out instructions. He'll question his choices and at every hint of annoyance, simply raise an eyebrow and in his classic tone say "really?" which guilts Duncan enough for his taste. He also chirps in when Duncan inevitably realizes that he was right about some of the directions, the bitter realization that they were both wrong and right about some things, that this was a misunderstanding and they were both too stubborn to work it out, that Noah could have survived if he hadn't been a jerk. All Noah had to say was "told you so" and Duncan would dig his nails into his palms at the cruelty he had displayed.
The reason why the ghosts didn't get the killer immediately is because they didn't know the limits to their powers and they were scared. Simple as that.
To add onto that, they used Chris as bait to make sure everyone else got out safe. They made Chris's death longer and more painful than anything they had gone through before immediately killing the murderer. That or they then tormented them until they died, either of natural causes or of fright.
Time for me to overthink two of the deaths!
My choice is Ezekiel and Heather. Ironically, they're the beginning and the end, both pictured as innocent and young.
Quick note for both of them but the ghosts may look like that because that was their last state as living. Yeah, I'm implying that they were dismembered alive.
Ezekiel:
I LOVE the writing for his discovery. It comes across as child-like, even when it comes to his corpse. You could say I love it to bits.
It's easy to forget that he was a sheltered kid after everything that happened in the canon. Here, he's portrayed as sweet and so, so much like a child. Someone who didn't deserve it.
He was an easy target. He might not even have noticed that anything was amiss until it was too late.
It would take time to find every part of his body. Did the crew search for him before setting off? I doubt it. They likely put things together quick and bailed, never finding his every piece.
A small detail that came up was that the hole Katie hid in might have been the one where his arm was. I like to think it was and she had to bite back her scream. The killer could have thought that they didn't need to search for her, she'd abandon her friend and get back to safety or if she didn't, she'd have screamed her head off at finding a rotting arm as she tried to hide.
His rule is the most interesting part to me. Chris will have to search for his body once but then he will simply have to run to them every time afterwards... And that's the last thing you want to do when there's a killer on the loose! It's also very, very fun for a video game. All the rules are! The art not being too scary either would make it very good. Anyhow!
If Chris needs to bring them back together, it's even more horrifying. Would he need to carry them with him in case Ezekiel wants to bother him? Do they go back to their original places and he needs to do everything every time?
Picture his voice. It isn't scary. Yet it would make it so much more eerie and unsettling. While true for every victim, his ghost doesn't even look scary. Again, it's child-like. And with everything else, it makes a wonderful picture.
Heather:
I love EVERYTHING about this one. The reference, the call backs to the canon... The writing!
I'll keep the latter for the end as it will tackle more sensitive content.
God, the way she's the last warning. Threatening. Vengeful. Exactly how she was in canon and how Chris perceived her.
The fact that she was found by the two most important people to her character! Iirc, Gwen found her head which is a shame since it's a reference to when Leshawna (sorry for the spelling guys) stuck her inside of the fridge.
The way she was grabbed by her ponytail! It's the way she wore her hair in latter seasons.
Off with her head for the queen bee. The stereotypical mean, popular girl.
Now for the writing: This was a straight-up call-out to her haters. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the way it directly calls Chris, and us, out. She was a kid. She was terrified, begging, small and alone as she was killed. It makes sure we get that. We know her as a mean girl but she was a girl. She didn't deserve it. The way her suffering was highlighted, showing that she was crying like a young kid, compared to the others' was well-written and hit harder than the rest. It can even imply that Heather pretended to be meaner than she was for the show. It's a valid theory for the canon, she was cunning and she knew it made her memorable. But that meant that Chris truly thought she was. Based on your thoughts about Heather, the text will take on new meanings yet work.
Last trigger warning for SA:
"She was pretty". Amazing. Perfect. That, by itself, tells me that the creator is a very good writer and knows how horror works.
Listen. Listen up well. The SA headcanon isn't bad. Is it gross? Yes. The entire AU is. SA is. However, we've grown desensitized to murder and gore. Not SA. It still feels horrible and outrageous. That's why it works and makes for good horror. BUT! The thing is not to overdo it. Not say too much, not use it too much. Especially not as a fetish.
Here, it's done perfectly. Yes, she's a minor. They all are and most got brutally murdered. So a creepy murderer isn't that bad.
The implications that he kept her head because he found her pretty are amazing. It makes her fate so much more tragic. It brings a new level of cruelty and disgusting to her death. We know that he doesn't have pure intentions. Just staring at her frozen head is horrible enough. We know the way he looks at her, how he sees her. It also raises the question why. Why her? Canonically, most of the girls are pretty. Lindsey, in particular, was the most beautiful. Was it because Heather cried and begged? Was it because he had disfigured the others before he could notice their looks? Is it because he found that "submitting her" made her better? (Which is incidentally a real thought process r*p*sts have. Some like to bring some people down a peg by doing those awful things, hating how they felt inferior because their poor victims didn't look at them or at the world "right".)
It's a real question and worry that this simple like brings. It brings a real, scary subject we aren't desensitized to just yet into this and enhances the horror. It doesn't say too much, it isn't insensitive. We won't ever know what the killer would/will do. We just know he's a vile piece of shit on every level.
It's also a huge contrast to how child-like Heather was described as and how it was hammered into our heads. It's said so simply, almost like another child would say. "Oh she's pretty". It isn't said in a gross way! That's very good writing. It keeps the same tone. It's almost eerie with how simple and factual it is.
That headcanon exists (and might be popular, I don't look at the fandom) because the line and implications are there. Horror should make you uncomfortable and that's what this does. Of course, personally, I wouldn't say the killer did anything. But, he might have planned to. He might have after the body was discovered. It wasn't like the campers had the time to bury their friends or would fathom that this monster thought Heather was pretty.
It all depends on the delivery and of course some edgelords will be insensitive and approach it terribly. I think the actual AU did it exactly how it should be done.
The entire Heather section was done as best as it could ever be.
Magic Lamp, who is tired of workin and doing stuff for Yogurt Cream finally snaps and kills Yogurt Cream in anger
"Magi, fetch my blanket."
"Magi, light the candles for me."
"Magi, Magi, Magi-"
The lamp is tired of such constant servitude. Such an ornate and lovingly crafted item does not deserve to be treated as nothing more than a servile pet. It may be a pet, yet, but it is sick and tired of this treatment.
There's disgruntled sounds from the lamp as it carries in a blanket for the prince without being able to see more than half the way there.
Its glass nearly cracks being so close to an open flame to light another one that it will need to avoid. The scorching outside weather is narrowly worse...
It deserves better. It was not meant to serve. It was meant to be appraised and look gorgeous upon a shelf. It is meant to be the one praised for doing so little, to light up the room with its twinkling, lavish gemstones and gorgeous metal. Now, it's constantly on just to keep this... unworthy prince appeased.
It's tired of this. Magi is sick of this treatment.
And yet? What can it do? It's rage builds by the day. Every inconvenience for the prince is a joy to take in, as much as it would have to hear about the complaints. At times, it yearns for the ability to shut him up. Permanently.
...hmm.
The prince snores loudly at night. Not loud enough for the whole palace to hear, but enough for the lamp to be kept up night after night. Not to mention he needs a 'night light'. It's exhausting and infuriating. Ah, and yet, the prince lays on his back all sprawled apart... Head tilted back into his pillow with an exposed neck. The lamp would have figured someone in the family would have advised against such, but... They wanted him dead as much as it did.
The lamp turned off its light, floating itself over Yogurt Cream with a thought on its mind. If it killed, here and now, who would suspect it? With its sharp end hovering the prince's neck, it stared down with its gemstone eyes at the one that's been treating it as an item instead of a pet.
It lifted itself up, getting one last glimpse of the bastard smiling in his sleep, before slamming its sharp tip into the neck of the prince. There was the small sound of choking, but the prince did not awaken. Red stained the top of the lamp, something to be cleaned soon, but... If this man wasn't going to wake up... there'd be no harm in taking out the rest of the suffering its had to endure on him, would it?
...no, no harm at all. To the lamp itself, at least.
How did killing(genociding?) the entire echidna tribe make you feel?
her feathers ruffled just from the way the stranger even spoke to her, she knew how those who wouldn’t understand would perceive her. nothing but a monster, she saw herself that way at times, killing those echidna’s wasn’t something she wanted to do, but to keep sonic safe as well as the emerald---she felt as though at the time she had no choice.
they didn’t want to listen to her.
“you think i wanted to harm them? i had a son to protect at the time, i would have done anything to make sure that he survived. i wanted nothing more than to be able to come to a peaceful agreement, but with an arrow through my body, it was hard to do that. i still hate myself for what i did, is that what you want to hear from me?” her voice had more depth to it than a moment ago. “i heard that there was a father amongst that group, had i known that when i did i would have let them kill me so that his son wouldn’t have to grow up with the anger that he had.”
The cartoon that came out of the machine was pretty as a picture, perfect in almost every detail, and had a bubbly, positive personality. But she was not what Joey had wanted Susie to become. (Set in an AU where Joey gets perfect toons from his freshly killed employees and STILL isn’t happy, the unpleasable bitch…)
“Progress report to GENT home office, Client; Joey Drew Studios.
With the addition of the new ink recipe to use in the machine, we have made an unbelievable leap in progress and have almost met our client’s expectations. What had started as a machine to mold life sized figures out of ink has now done things that border on being supernatural.
Although Mr. Drew seems unimpressed, even frustrated with the results at times, in spite of the fact that the models have come out identical to their cartoon counterparts.
The process of running the cartoon film through the machine for the figures to imprint on has been successful, but it looks like that unless someone goes through the trouble of making a short that only has ONE character in it, the machine picks what character it makes at seemingly random. That is our client’s complaint; that instead of being user chosen, the machine picks out which living, breathing, thinking ink models it makes at random. Upon working on this, if I were to be in the client’s shoes, I’d have several valid complaints regarding the machine and the models it created, but our client’s complaint… Is that the machine that doesn’t have a system that allows the user to pick and choose which model it makes yet creates a physically flawless model every single time, does not allow the user to pick and choose which model it makes. He never ceases to infuriate me.
On a sour note, there was an incident with the figure in the likeness of a character called ‘The Brute’. Upon its creation, it immediately went and broke our client’s leg in a very… well, brutal fashion too. But fortunately, it has not physically attacked anyone since The Cameraman figure was made as we have threatened to separate them if it keeps up that behavior. It still likes to insult people, and it still does things that unnerve me though. We’re hoping that the rest of the figures will be less violent and or creepy.”
Thomas clicked off the recording and sighed as he looked at the newly made report, there was no way he could submit this to his boss without someone sending in someone to make sure he wasn’t huffing in ink fumes and whatever the Studio workers smoked to consider any of this to be normal.
“Hey Tommy! I think I figured out the issue with the machine! Or rather, its fuel.”
The mechanic grit his teeth and turned to face his client.
“What? I wasn’t aware that there was a problem with it.”
“Why, Tommy, how could you forget? I’m talking about the figure deposit problem of course! Why did we get The Brute when we wanted to get Boris? Why did we get Cameraman when we wanted Bendy? The answer was so simple, why, it was even staring at us the entire time!”
“Uh huh…” Thomas did not look convinced. “And what was this issue?”
“The ingredients, the Ink of course! You simply can’t put blueberry pancake batter in an oven and be surprised when you get blueberry pancakes instead of blueberry muffins, We got those two knuckleheads before we got the real stars of the show because the souls used to make them weren’t fit to make those two, but the machine still did what it does best: made living cartoons.”
Tom had an uneasy feeling in his gut as Joey grabbed his arm and led him to the Ink Machine’s room. He felt like a sheep being led to the slaughterhouse, he KNEW what went down in there! He knew the other ingredients, not well, per say, but for long enough to judge them and their characters.
He didn’t shed a single tear when Sammy was used in it, in fact, he was rather pleased with the results before it started acting out like that. He and the music director were almost always at each other’s throats for one reason or another. If you asked him, the ex-musician was strange, rude, clearly mentally unstable, and sometimes even cruel. And even if he wasn’t, his physical health had declined so much over his time at the studio that it was obvious that he would die regardless of whether or not he was put in the machine. Feeding Sammy to that machine was an act of mercy, really, and even if it wasn’t, it served him right to become a- err, The Brute and have him put the former musician in his place- put his villainous ways to a decent cause. Now if only someone could ensure for a fact that The Brute would behave...
Now the other ingredient, Norman Polk, was a different story. The man was old, weird and kinda creepy. On the surface, the man was an ideal candidate. Like Sammy, he would die anyway and nobody would miss him when he did. But on the contrary, he seemed like he still had some good years left in him. And while he was weird and creepy, he had been those things in an oddly endearing way that most of the studio had either liked or tolerated enough to not be bugged by it. The mechanic didn’t know how to explain it, that man reminded Tom of a mysterious, mostly-estranged relative that shows up out of nowhere and was always there for you even if you don’t always see him. So when the man snooped too much for his own good and had to be silenced… Tom could never look the resulting toon in the eye, or in his case, the lens.
But the mechanic couldn’t deny that it needed to be done, after all, the former projectionist was far too nosy for anyone’s sake. Nobody who knows the secret of the Ink Machine (or rather, it’s unconventional secret ingredient needed for its ink) should be free to wander the studio and spill the beans.
And a feeling in his gut was beginning to tell him that that was why he was the next on the chopping block.
He had built it, he learned what it would take to make it work, he had done what it took to make it work, and it was working now; No more models that would only move a tiny bit before collapsing into puddles! No more off model models! No more issues aside from x, y, z… -No more reasons for Joey to keep him alive when it was now too dangerous to his business…
A tiny voice at the back of his head told him it served him right. The creator of this unholy torture device would now be consumed by it, just like how the maker of the Brazen Bull was the first victim it claimed.
At this point, he was almost morbidly curious on who or what the machine would make him; would it poke fun at his past and make him that territorial junkyard guard, Canoodle? Would it ironically punish him for his greed by making him The Fat Cat of the show, Boswell Lotsobucks? Would it acknowledge that although he was a villain to the bitter end, he still tried to go clean only for demons to drag him back down his dark paths and make him into Charley? Thinking about it, any butcher gang member would be a good enough fit really.
He was a mix of relieved, disappointed, and horrified when he was brought into the room and saw the unconscious voice actress of Alice Angel strapped to a mobile operating table. Joey seemed to ignore his reaction as he proudly showed her off and began to monologue.
“Like Boris, Sammy was a musician, simple-minded, and was very loyal to those he considered friends until the bitter end. But what made Sammy more like the Brute then Boris- Aside from body type, obviously, was that Sammy had quite the short temper on him, one that got messed with often, and a tendency to hold onto a grudge that can’t be swayed away with a good meal or a bad joke… Just like our friend; the Brute.”
Tom stayed speechless as Joey continued his seemingly prepared and rehearsed speech.
“As for Bendy and Norman, well, it’s obvious that those too simply weren’t compatible in the slightest! Sure, they both have their mischievous sides, but that alone doesn’t make a man into a good imp… However, do you know who DOES have more in common with Mr. Polk? That’s right! A certain smart alec-someone who knows a thing or two about anyone, everyone, and everything whether he wants to or not. Someone with a darker, more jaded sense of humor than our little devil, someone who can lurk in the shadows, or in his case, ‘backstage’ for safety or to gather Intel, but be happy and proud to take the front stage when the need arises! ...Alright, I can see that Norman’s soul may have influenced the personality of our Cameraman, but at least he did it in ways that make sense to the character.”
The mechanic continued to stay silent as Joey continued.
“But the main point is: we know what to do to fix this little issue. If we want a main character, we need someone who embodies the soul of that character. And Ms. Campbell here said it herself; Alice is a part of her!”
“Joey…”
“Why, she’d be thanking us if she knew what was coming! This is a dream come true for her! She always seemed to be the happiest when she was singing our angel darling’s songs…”
As if he was snapped out of a trance, the mechanic pulled Joey to his face, gripping the animator’s arms tightly and shaking him up a bit.
“Joey! We can’t do this! Susie isn’t like Norman or Sammy. She’s young, healthy, and still has a lot to live for. Nobody would buy that she passed on from something out of the blue, or that she moved away without warning or telling anyone. Everyone in the studio loves her and talks to her frequently! If we do this, especially so soon, they will make the connection, and they will find out about this. It was bad enough when Norman went, imagine if someone as well loved as her went too!”
Joey just laughed and slapped Tom’s shoulder.
“Oh Tommy, all we need to tell them is that Susie got her big break and is Bringing Alice to life in ways never before seen! And to sell the illusion, also tell them ‘you know how those folks in Hollywood are with their schedules, always a bunch of busy bees.’ They’ll bite, you just have to trust me.”
“What if they don’t?” the mechanic argued. “What if they start snooping around and start to piece together what really happened to her?”
Joey’s smile wavered a bit, but remained steadfast.
“Well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we reach it. And when we do, we’ll have our answer!”
“Nnnnggghhh…”
Both of them shuddered when they heard the voice actress start to stir awake.
“I swore I used stronger stuff in her drink…”
“...Jo...Joey..? ..Mr. Conner..?” The voice actress’s real eye widened in horror as she looked around, and her voice wavered as she grew more and more frantic. “WHat’s going on?! Where am I- Why am I tied up?!”
“S-Susie! Everything’s perfectly fine my dear, you just need to calm down a bit and I’ll explain everything…” He subtly jabbed Thomas in the ribs with his elbow. “Tommy!” He hissed “Throw her in the machine already!”
The frightened voice actress began to struggle against her restraints while Tom hesitated. Joey shot him a glare as he strolled up behind Susie and put a ‘reassuring’ hand on the weeping angel’s shoulder.
“Joey, please… let me go… Don’t do this to me!” Tears were running down the woman’s face, her voice was soft and breaking from her stress. “Just let me go and I promise I won’t tell anyone…”
“Now, now, Susie, there’s nothing to worry about, yes I know this looks unsettling from your position… But you and Alice are going places, new, big places that most people only dream of seeing! You’re going to bring her to life in ways that will touch the hearts of generations!”
A flash of realization crossed her face.
“Joey… answer me this: when Sammy ‘died from untreated lung cancer’ did he actually die from lung cancer? And when Norman ‘died from a workplace injury’ did he really…?” her voice trailed off a bit with uncertainty before asking her third question. “Did their deaths have anything to do with those two toons that showed up?!”
Her questions were not answered by words, but with actions as the two men stuffed her into the machine. When it turned on, her screams echoed throughout the mostly empty studio, chilling all who heard them to the very bone.
When they finally stopped, the machine whirred and roared to life and Joey rubbed his hands together in glee as he watched the machine work its magic.
Thomas, on the other hand, stood in silence while staring at his hands as dread and guilt sank in his gut.
The former man’s smile fell into a look of confusion when he saw a pair of gloves with ‘X’ marks on them come out, followed by arms that connected to them. That look of confusion fell deeper into a frown when he saw the arms stretch, curl, and twist when the gloves reached the floor as if they were streams of ice cream coming out of the machine at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Alice didn’t have arms that curled and stretched, but Joey knew a certain demoness toon who did; Miss Twisted. He was cursing under his breath, of course it would complete their little trio before giving him what he wanted! Now he wasted his one shot at getting Alice!
The rest of the toon didn’t even get out of the damn machine, it was like she was taunting him by continuing to stretch her arms and let them continue to coil in piles on the floor instead of showing him the finished product.
Furious, he marched over and grabbed the toon demoness’s arms and yanked her out of the damn machine.
“Stop messing around!” He scolded before pausing and reapplying his signature smile. “Your friends Brute and Cameraman have been worried sick about you ever since their creation! You wouldn’t want to keep them waiting for you any longer than they’ve already been, right?”
He could’ve been imagining it, but he swore that she had a look of pure terror on her face before she put on a fake smile of her own. And was it just him, or was this Miss Twisted’s left eye slightly discolored, glassy looking, if that made sense for someone with pitch black pie-cut eyes. The grayer eye she had reminded him of Susie Campbell’s fake eye.
“Y-yeah! You’re right!” She pushed Joey out of her face, clearly uncomfortable by his staring but pretending to be perfectly fine. “I can’t keep my boys waiting for too long, who knows what they’ll do?” She chuckled nervously. “So… where are you keeping them? where are they hiding?”
“Tommy here will be happy to show you, just follow him and-”
“Thanks!”
The demoness chipperly chirped and swiftly yanked Thomas out of the room at a speed that almost insulted the man.
Mrrr? What happen to yur head?? *lightly taps scar with paw* (If this question has already been asked you can go ahead and ignore this I sorry asdfghjk)
Though, if you must know...It was one of my early haunts. I was still in high school, stalking a man who no one would really miss. An obvious motive to allow me to get away squeaky clean...
Up until I was perhaps too hasty in my approach. It must have been the excitement. He was one of my first human targets, and I was still learning my way around the ropes back then. The fight for control was such a thrill but also meant that I was a bit sloppier, which allowed him to hit me against a counter. He thought it’d subdue me...which for a solid minute it may have, but in youth, we are nothing but resilient creatures. Getting my knife to his throat was so very satisfying. Sliding it in him again while he was still alert is such a thrilling memory...
Maybe I should release you before I get too worked up thinking about it, hm?
