Page 76 of Off the Rails

She brought her ax to his wrists, letting each one drag up his forearm — from his palm all the way up to his elbow. Her touch was light, almost delicate.

She must have sharpened the blades today.

In a matter of seconds, blood poured from each vein and began to soak the ground beneath him.

“Pick up the cards, asshole.” I snapped at her.

They were sacred.

Blade could fuck around all she wanted, but she wasn't allowed to damage Nash's ability to see for all of us.

Sheathing the twins, Blade scooped up the cards. “Maybe the blood will make them more powerful.” Blade looked up at me with a wink.

It was my turn with the prey.

I shoved Blade's shoulders, knocking her off-balance and taking her place over the Screamer. I lowered myself down and stared at him as his eyes grew wider.

As blood poured from his veins, the man met my eyes through the stitches in my mask and spoke, “He Watches. He is Present."

My forehead wrinkled under the mask, making me appreciate the secrecy it provided. I wouldn't want this weak man to see my confusion in his dying breaths.

I wanted him to feel insignificant, like nothing he'd ever done or said would leave a lasting impact on this earth.

Because it wouldn't.

I lifted the blade of my machete to his cheek and let the metal sink into his flesh, carving two eyes and one eerie smile across the plane of his face.

My spine shivered at the feeling of his ripping flesh, how smoothly my machete made the cut. It was a brutal tool, not one meant for precision. But I didn’t care about clean lines. Not today.

His screams filled the room, his blood staining the ground.

And I watched the crimson fall from the incisions on his face.

If I'd let him live, those wounds would have turned into gorgeous scars. A mark of who had paid him a visit.

This man didn't deserve such beauty.

Instead I stood over him and watched life fade from his eyes as blood stopped pumping from the wounds and his body became still.

For a moment my mind was still, peace washing over me.

But there were more men to hunt.

And Tess — my Tess — was still locked away in my prison.

That gorgeous dangerous woman.

Nothing would taste sweeter than making her pay.

44

TESS

For all the money the Freaks had spent renovating this place, the sound insulation was lacking. Could they keep it down?

The metal shutters on the windows made it impossible for me to see outside, but for hours, all I could hear was the grind of amusement park rides, the tinny carnival music, and the screams.

Who have they brought back?