“When I was seventeen, I made my first kill. This guy’s face was plastered all over the tv. Some rich asshole that had gotten away with raping a ten-year-old girl. I planned, hunted him down, and murdered him. It was the first time my mind felt clear, and I knew what I needed to do. I started researching every court case where the person got away and took them out. After my fourth kill, Micah busted me.” I laugh at that. He wasn’t even shocked. “He’s the one who built the underground torture chamber, helped dispose of the bodies, and got my gear. All under my dad’s nose.” I hated hiding that from him, but it wasn’t something I ever wanted him to see me as. A murderer. A serial killer. “My dad was diagnosed with cancer soon after, went into remission, then got sick again right after my twen
