I let Steven get almost to the door before I hit him over the head with the meat mallet.
“You can’t leave me,” I whisper, just as I run up behind him. I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. I didn’t give him time to turn around.
The mallet came down hard on his head, with a satisfying whack. I’ve learned you have to be quick and sure of yourself if you don’t want any trouble. If you want to be sure they don’t get away.
The meat mallet had a little of Steven’s sandy hair and a bit of blood clinging to it when I brought it back up. Steven moaned, groggy and reached out to the wall for support.
It was easy to lead him into the bathroom, position him so he knelt over the tub. He didn’t really even put up much of a fuss when I took the Butcher knife and slit his throat, quickly, like a lower gr
