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Audible Audio
Published September 16, 2025



I reach down and grab the hands I cut off of Jerry, that are wrapped in his shirt, and trudge through the thick crop of Evergreen trees, back toward where I left my vehicle. I’m going to have to do a deep clean inside of it to ensure that none of that asshole’s DNA is left behind.
I look down at the bloody bundle in my hands. Why the fuck did I even keep these? I don’t usually do mementos of my kills, I’m not deranged. Maybe I should gift them to Chrissy as a peace offering between us? I, of course, couldn’t let her know they were from me, but maybe they would bring her some satisfaction, that there was one less grabby asshole wandering around that she would have to deal with. Would she look at them with admiration for my hard work, or with disgust?
The logical part of me is yelling inside of my thick skull that no one gifts women bloody hands, but the psychotic part of me is telling that one to shut the fuck up.
I pull back from her lips and stare down at her, as her glazed, brown, lust-filled eyes stare back at mine, challenging me to hurt her.
Fuck, I will never get enough of her, and I know I’m completely fucked because of it.
She’s changing who I am, and what I believe about myself. With her, I don’t wish to be the cold and callous killer. I don’t want to murder her for sport. Instead, I see her in my future at my side forever. How can that be? How can, in such a short time, this woman, this little raged-filled hellion, have changed what I believe to be true about myself?
The last couple of days have made me a frazzled, pathetic mess, with emotions and feelings that I don’t understand how to process. Honestly, I don’t fucking get it. Someone could take a gun and point it at my father’s head right now and pull the trigger, and I would shrug and walk away without a care in the world, or a backward glance, and that asshole raised me from birth.
Yet everything about Chrissy causes a reaction. She’s sad, I lose it. She doesn’t eat, I become unhinged. She’s in pain and doesn’t tell me, I want to rip out my own hair. She’s crying, and I want to level the whole world.
Where the hell is all of this coming from? Is this what they describe as love? Am I in love with this girl? I’ve never loved anything, to my knowledge. The closest I have ever come was to tolerate something with slight affection, and that’s my brother, Micah. Even on a good day, I would probably shoot him without the slightest hint of remorse.