Wingdings sighed sympathetically. “How’d you know it was that particularly gang?”
Don Dee shuddered. “Those bastards like to crave a big bloody “N” in their victims’ foreheads. And it looked like whoever killed Nick went a little too far. Not only did the poor son-of-a-bitch have that “N” craved so deeply in his forehead that you could see bits of his Goddamn skull but whoever slit his throat nearly decapitated his fucking head.”
Sans felt a deep amount of satisfaction enter his exhausted body making him feel just a little less weak.
Fucker should have never touched my little lady, Sans thought as he followed Wingdings’ example and shook his head in mock disgust.
Bee
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