"What. The hell. are you doing. in. my. HOUSE?....forget it, no matter. Now that you're here, I might as well keep you, right?...Not with those ankles still in tact, though." He says before walking off into a nearby closet and coming back with a sledgehammer, his wingtip shoes clicking every step he takes. Before you can protest, he swings at your ankles. You feel a sharp pain you'll never forget and fall to the floor.
Comments
0No comments yet.