Semua Bab Nursing the Murderer Alpha King: Bab 1 - Bab 5

There’s really a fucking hand in the box.Not plastic. Not silicone. Not Halloween-party-gone-too-far kind of hand.No. This one’s got dirt under the nails. Blood crusted around the torn wrist.Veins like blue ropes curling under pale, sickly skin. The flesh is already starting to bloat.And it stinks.Jesus. It stinks.Rot and copper and something sour I can’t even describe. One finger's bent at a weird angle. The nail's chipped. My stomach folds in on itself. I’ve seen shit in the ER, but not this. Not fucking this.This isn't just medical-weird. This is bury-the-body kind of weird.I slam a hand over my mouth before the bile reaches my throat.I back away, fast, my heel catching on the uneven tile, hand scrambling for balance on the wall. The box stays in the center of my shitty apartment floor like it belongs here. Like it’s mocking me.What the fuck do I do?Call the police?No—no fucking way. If this is what I think it is—and I’m not delusional, that’s a damn human hand—then thi

The first thing I register is the cold.Not the kind that pricks your skin or sends shivers down your spine. No, this is deeper. It’s the kind that settles in your bones and makes everything feel like it’s not yours. My body, the air, the stillness. Nothing fucking feels like mine anymore.My head throbs. It feels like a jackhammer took a personal interest in my skull.I blink. Once. Twice.I look around my surroundings. The floor. I’m in my house. Then I realize—I can’t fucking move.What the—where’s that psycho killer? I was in the woods? What happened? How did I get here? How did I—ah!My arms are yanked back behind the chair I’m in, wrists locked with something metallic. It’s not silver, thankfully. I try to twist, but there's no give. Steel. Chains. My ankles are tied too. Not tight enough to cut circulation, but firm enough that struggling just makes me look stupid.My kitchen light is on. It’s that flickering bulb I’ve been too broke to fix for weeks. I’m still in my apartment.