michael ran through the only abandoned halls in all of the prison, a shiny knife stolen from the kitchen clutched in his right hand. he was going back for the guy that wouldn't stop screaming.
he finally reached the single cell, panting heavily. although a killer, he defintely wasn't athletic.
there was a rage running through his veins. he hadn't gotten one second of peace or one good night's sleep since he came here. he was going to pay.
and pay he did.
michael did all the things he had imagined in his head at the darkest time of night to him and then signed his skin. it was a good feeling, finally getting to the man that had been rubbing michael the wrong way for days.
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happy families :: m.g.c.
Fanficthree killers. twelve crimes. one past. book three in the child's games series.
