Page 103 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“An IV. I have some shit I need to take care of, and I don’t need you dying on me anytime soon.”

“Ah, still haven’t found my baby girl, have you, Killer? I still can’t figure out what your obsession is with her. Are you one of those true crime freaks? Did Netflix finally make a documentary about me? Fuck! I’ll never see a dime from that show.”

“Shut the fuck up, Parker,” I growl.

My head is splitting, and his incessant rambling is getting on my nerves. I grab extra rope to make sure he’s restrained so that he can’t knock the IV loose.

“Maybe you’re someone from her past?” he asks, but I don’t respond.

I finish tying him up, then find the vein I need before sticking the needle in. He hisses and I can’t help the small thrill I get just knowing he’s in pain. I haven’t tortured him for a while. Hell, I’ve barely even come down here except to give him food and water. He tries to get me to talk every time, but I hardly respond. It’s not just the physical torture, it’s psychological too. People tend to go mad without human interaction.

“Not feeling talkative today?” he asks, still trying to make me talk as I flush the saline solution through the tube. “Are you a fucking nurse, Killer? How ironic would that be?” he laughs.

I actually learned the basics just in case I wanted to make sure I kept my toys alive while I took care of what I needed to. I know how to place and start an IV, simple stitching, cauterization, and even looked into survival amputation. That one could come in handy someday.

I finish getting the IV flowing, then grab the plate of food. He stares at the spoonful of mush as I hold it out to him before he slowly opens his mouth. As much as I want to cram this spoon down his fucking throat, I have more important shit I need to be doing.

“What is it?” he mumbles through a mouthful of the mush.

“It’s going to be your last fucking meal if you don’t shut the fuck up and eat.”

“Is it tuna?”

I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply twice just to stop myself from punching him.

“Tuna, cottage cheese, some canned spinach, and powdered vitamins.”

“Tastes like fucking dog food,” he says as he spits a chunk of spinach on the floor.

“Well, it’s fitting then. If you don’t eat it, I don’t care. That IV will keep you going for a little while.”

“How long?” he asks nervously as I pull the plate and spoon away.

“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to eat or am I taking this away?”

“No. I’ll eat. Sorry.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I’ve never seen on this monster’s face before. Regret. Actual fucking regret. I give him a few more spoonfuls before he’s shaking his head back and forth at the last few bites.

“No more,” he groans.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head slightly.

His head sways as he blinks rapidly. Probably trying to clear away the fog slowly settling in.

“Wha…What did you…do?” he asks.

“Oh, I forgot to mention I added a little something extra. Just to help you sleep.”

He can’t see my grin behind the mask. All he can see is the sewn closed mouth of this broken skull mask, but still it’s there. His head falls forward as he’s barely able to hold it up. I stand, leaning a bit closer to slap him on the cheek twice.

“Goodnight, fucker.”

CHAPTER 47

WILLOW

NOVEMBER PRESENT DAY