They’ll never catch him. I know that in my bones.
Noticing the last three cops are distracted by the car chase, I take off towards the house.
“Hey! Stop right there or I’ll shoot!”
I ignore him, already knowing they won’t shoot. Not when they think they still have a chance of catching me.
“Hide, henchmen!” I scream as soon as I barrel through the door. Immediately, I see my men scrambling deeper in the house. I quickly crawl through one of my hidden doors, shutting the door quietly behind me just as the remaining three officers come stomping through the door.
That was close.
Quietly, I slinker through the hallways, and towards the staircase. There, I find my men waiting for me.
Mortis rushes towards me with wide eyes.
“What the fuck is going on, Sibby?” he whisper-shouts. His red eyes look terrifying in the low light.
“I don’t know! They just showed up,” I answer, my eyes wide with innocence. I knew my men weren’t happy about being excluded from this execution, and this only cements their anger. I’ve never excluded them from a kill ever, but I just knew that Zade wouldn’t have wanted them in the room.
And technically, he was after those demons first. If it wasn’t for my intrusion, he would’ve taken care of them himself. Easily.
And neither of us would’ve gotten caught. Though I’m still baffled how that even happened.
Deep down, I know it wasn’t Zade. He wouldn’t have chopped four bodies into pieces, just to tell on himself and be chased with a car full of those body parts. Which means either one of those men managed to get some type of distress signal out to someone, or Mark’s wife tattled. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know.
“Where is she?” I hear one of the officers ask, urgency and confusion in his muffled voice.
The strobe lights and mechanical mannequins are still on in the rest of the house. Every few seconds, I’ll hear expletives burst from their mouths or sharp yelps. I giggle every time, despite the gravity of this situation.
I’m going to have to leave Satan’s Affair for good.
It doesn’t matter if I kill them. There are officers that now know my face and know that I work in Satan’s Affair. If they don’t shut this place down for good, they sure as hell are going to be taking precautions from now on to make sure a little dolly isn’t sneaking around inside the walls.
Eventually, they could start connecting missing person’s to Satan’s Affair, which will ultimately lead to me. A girl who has been murdering evil people for the last five years, leaving a deadly trail of mutilated bodies in unmarked graves.
My time here is over, and I want to rage and scream.
I don’t like change.
Baine, Jackal, Cronus and Timothy gather in closer. Restless unease fills the air. They want to kill them—I can feel it. But two of the three cops are innocent. I don’t kill innocent people, and they know that.
“What’s the point in killing them when we’re caught anyway?” I ask quietly, meeting each of their colored eyes.
“It will make me feel better,” Mortis replies dryly, an evil smirk tipping his lips. With his devil makeup, he truly looks terrifying. I can’t help but clench my thighs at the sight, my pussy pulsing steadily. I didn’t get to come earlier when I was killing the demons. It didn’t feel right to subject Zade to that, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it.
“It will waste time,” Baine says quietly. “The two cops that drove off after that… man have already seen your face.” He spits out the word like Zade personally wronged him. I supposed in a way, he did. “More could be on their way here now.”
I nod my head, having already come to the same conclusion.
“How are we going to get away?” I ask. Our situation is beginning to settle heavily on my shoulders. I never thought I’d have to leave.
Jackal looks to the side, as if he’s staring through the walls. “They have two cop cars out there, and it’s safe to say the engines are still running. We can split up and each take one. That way they can’t follow us.”
My eyes widen. “We can’t split up,” I protest vehemently. The possibility of us getting separated sends a dose of panic into my bloodstream. Something could happen to one of our cars and the other would never know. “No. No splitting up. Let’s just… slash the tires or something.”
Jackal grabs my hand, noting the rising panic on my face. “Okay, okay. We stick together,” he placates, his yellow eyes softening.
“I’ll distract them, cause a commotion, while the rest of you escape. One of you slash the tires,” Mortis directs.