8
Cory pushed the edge of the glass shard into his forearm. It cut deeply, but not too deeply. Too deep would be bad; too deep might mean death and no more pain. The pain was good and much better than death. But his hands still shook with restraint as he dug the glass into his flesh. His right hand held the cloth-wrapped end of the glass shard firmly. He would carve only a little tonight, just a little treat. Soon he would feast on pain—his and, even more delicious, others’. This is what Dr. Amoroth had told him, and this made him happy.
Cory was a psychopath. He knew this and knew very well what it meant. But more importantly, he was a good psychopath. Dr. Lichten had told him so. “Extreme textbook case,” is what they said. But what Dr. Amoroth said was even better: he had
